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THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

BEING AN ACCOUNT OF HOW TWO 
PRISONERS OF WAR AT YOZGAD IN 
TURKEY WON THEIR WAY TO FREEDOM 

BY E. H. JONES, Lt. I.A.R.O., 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

C. W. HILL, Lt. R.A.F. 



"Oh the road to En-dor is the oldest road 
And the craziest road of all/ 
Straight it runs to the Witch's abode, 

As it did in the days of Saul, 
And nothing is changed of the sorrow in store 
For such as go down on the road to En-dor I" 

— RtJDYAED Kipling. 



NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY 

LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD 

MCMXX 



]] 









Copyright, 1920, 
Bt John Lane Company 



m -/ iy^>^ 



Press of 

J. J. Little & Ives Company 

New York, U. S. A. 



©CI.A565863 



TO 

W. R. O'FARRELL 

AN Irish Gentleman 

WHO, HIMSELF INJURED, TENDED THE WOUNDED 

ON THE DESERT JOURNEY FROM SINAI INTO CAPTIVITY, 

GOING ON FOOT THAT THEY MIGHT RIDE, 

WITHOUT WATER THAT THEY MIGHT DRINK, 

WITHOUT REST THAT THEIR WOUNDS MIGHT BE EASED; 

AND AFTERWARDS, 

WITH A COURAGE THAT NEVER FALTERED 

THROUGH NEARLY THREE YEARS OF BONDAGE. 

CHEERED US IN HEALTH, 

NURSED US IN SICKNESS, 

AND EVER FOUND HIS CHIEF HAPPINESS 

IN SETTING THE COMFORT OF A COMRADE 

BEFORE HIS OWN. 



PREFACE 

"The only good that I can see in the demonstration of 

the truth of 'spirituaHsm' is to furnish an additional argu- 

^ ment against suicide. Better live a crossing-sweeper than 

die and be made to talk twaddle by a 'medium' hired at a 

guinea a seance." — T. H. Huxley. 

PROFESSOR HUXLEY was never a prisoner of war 
in Turkey; otherwise he would have known that "spirit- 
ualism," pro\dded its truth be taken as demonstrated, 
has endless other uses — even for honest men. Lieu- 
tenant Hill and I found several of these uses. Spiritualism 
enabled us to kill much empty and weary time. It gave "True 
Believers" satisfactory messages, not only from the world be- 
yond, but also from the various battle-fronts — which was 
much more interesting. It enabled us to obtain from the Turks 
comforts for ourselves and privileges for our brother officers. 
It extended our house room, secured a Hunt Club for our 
friends, and changed the mind of the Commandant from silent 
and uncompromising hostility to a post-prandial friendliness 
ablaze with the eloquence of the Spook. Our Spook in Yozgad 
instituted a correspondence with the Turkish War Office in 
Constantinople. (Hill and I flatter ourselves that no other 
Spirit has dictated letters and telegrams to and obtained re- 
plies from a Government Department in any country.) It 
even altered the moral outlook of the camp Interpreter, a 
typical Ottoman Jew. It induced him to return stolen prop- 
erty to the owner, and converted him to temporary honesty, if 
not to a New Religion (whether or not the same as the "New 
Revelation" of which Sir A. Conan Doyle is the chief British 
exponent we do not quite know). Finally, what concerned 
us more, it helped us to freedom. 

There is a good deal about spiritualism in this book be- 
cause the method adopted by us to regain our liberty hap- 
pened to be that of spiritualism. But the activities of our 



viii PREFACE 

Spook are after all only incidental to the main theme. The 
book is simply an account of how Lieutenant Hill and I got 
back to England. The events described took place between 
February 191 7 and October 191 8. The incidents may seem 
strange or even preposterous to the reader, but I venture to 
remind him that they are known to many of our fellow prison- 
ers of war whose names are given in the text and at whose 
friendly instigation this book has been written.^ 

One thing more I must add. I began my experiments in 
spiritualism with a perfectly open mind, but from the time 
when the possibility of escape by these means first occurred 
to me I felt little concern as to whether communication with 
the dead was possible or not. The object of Lieutenant Hill 
and myself was to make it appear possible and to avoid being 
found" out. In doing so we had many opportunities of seeing 
the deplorable effects of belief in spiritualism. When in the 
atmosphere of the seance, men whose judgment one respects 
and whose mental powers one admires lose hold of the criteria 
of sane conclusions and construct for themselves a fantastic 
world on their new hypothesis. The messages we received 
from "the world beyond" and from "other minds in this 
sphere" were in every case, and from beginning to end, of our 
own invention. Yet the effect both on our friends and on the 
Turks was to lead them, as earnest investigators, to the same 
conclusions as Sir Oliver Lodge has reached, and the arrival of 
his book "Raymond" in the camp in 1918 only served to con- 
firm them in their views. We do not know if such a thing 
as a "genuine" medium exists. We do know that, in the 
face of the most elaborate and persistent efforts to detect 
fraud, it is possible to convert intelligent, scientific, and other- 
wise highly educated men to spiritualism, by means of the 
arts and methods employed by "mediums" in general. 

When we reached England Lieutenant Hill and I thought 
our dealings with spiritualism had served their purpose, but 
we now hope they may play an even better part. If this book 
saves one widow from lightly trusting the exponents of a 
creed that is crass and vulgar and in truth nothing better than 
a confused materialism, or one bereaved mother from pre- 

^A list of the officers who were prisoners of war with us in 
Yozgad is given in Appendix I. 



PREFACE ix 



ferring the unwholesome excitement of the seance and the 
trivial babble of a hired trickster to the healing power of 
mora and religious reflexion on the truths that give to human 
life its stability and worth— then the miseries and sufferings 
through which we passed in our struggle for freedom will 
mdeed have had a most ample reward. 

E. H. Jones. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. How Spooking Began in Yozgad 17 

II. How THE Camp Turned Spiritualist .... 26 

III. How THE Mediums Were Tested 36 

IV. Of the Episode of Louise, and How it Was 

All Done 52 

V. In Which the Reader is Introduced to the 

Pimple 63 

VI. In Which the Cook Appears and the Spook 

Finds A Revolver 71 

VII. Of the Calomel Manifestation and How 

KiAziM Fell Into the Net 86 

VIII. In Which We Become Thought-readers . . . 100 
IX. How the Spook Wrote a Magic Letter and 

Arranged Our Arrest 105 

X. How We Were Tried and Convicted for 

Telepathy 117 

XL In Which We Are Put on Parole by Our 

Colonel, and Go to Prison 128 

XII. Of the Comrades We Had Left Behind and 

How Posh Castle Played THE Raven ... 140 

XIII. In Which the Pimple Learns His Future Lies 

in Egypt 151 

XIV. Which Introduces 000 and Tells Why the 

Pimple Got His Face Smacked 163 

XV. In Which the Spook Puts Our Colonel on 
Parole in His Turn, Saves the Hunt Club, 

and Writes a Speech 175 

xi 



xii CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PACB 

XVI. How We Fell Into a Trance and Saw the 

Future 185 

XVII. How the Spook Took Us Treasure-hunting 
AND We Photographed the Turkish Com- 
mandant 193 

XVIII. Of a "Dreadful Explosion" and How 000 

Sought to Murder Us 205 

XIX. Of the Four Point Receiver and How We 
Planned to Kidnap the Turkish Staff at 

YOZGAD 219 

XX. In Which We Are Foiled BY A Friend . , . 236 
XXI. In Which We Decide to Become Mad and 

THE Spook Gets Us Certificates of Lunacy . 243 
XXII. How the Spook Corresponded with the 

Turkish War Office and Got A Reply . . . 255 

XXIII. In Which the Spook Persuades Moise to 

Volunteer for Active Service 260 

XXIV. Of Our Mad Journey to Mardeen .... 270 
XXV. How We Hanged Ourselves ...... 279 

XXVI. In Which the Spook Convicts Moise of Theft, 
Converts Him to Honesty, and Promises 

Omnipotence 292 

XXVII. Of the First Day in Haidar Pasha Hospital 
AND THE Preliminary Examination by the 

Specialists 307 

XXVIII. Of 'the Wassermann Tests and How We 

Deceived THE Medical Board 320 

XXIX. Of Hill's Terrible Month in Gumush Suyu 

Hospital 332 

XXX. In Which We Are Repatriated as Lunatics . . 343 
Postscript: What the Pimple Thinks of It All 

— ^Three Letters 359 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

"Hill Had Taken the First Photograph Before I Was 
Ready" (P. 200). The Commandant, Pimple, and 
Cook at the Finding of the First Clue to the Treasure 

Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

The Ouija 18 

The Lane Where the Prisoners Exercised .... 66 *^ 

"On Fine Days they Snoozed at their Posts" — ^a Game- 
keeper on Guard in Yozgad 86 

"I Made My Plans to Go on Skis and Began to Train" , 92 

"The Snow on the Slope of South Hill" — The Site of the 

First Clue TO THE Treasure . 142 

"We Had FouR-A-siDE Hockey Tournaments" 144 

The "Posh-Castle Mess" Who Fed Us in Our Imprison- 
ment 150 

In THE Pine Woods — "Winnie" and Nightingale on Skis 184 

Where the Second Clue Was Buried — Bones' Nullah . . 206 

"The Melancholic." — ^Lieut. Hill 254 

"The Furious." — ^Lieut. Jones . 254 

The Mad Machine for Uprooting England . . . .326 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

CHAPTER I 

HOW SPOOKING BEGAN IN YOZGAD 

ON an afternoon late in February 191 7 a Turk 
mounted on a weary horse arrived in Yozgad. He 
had come a 120-mile journey through snow- 
bound mountain passes from the railhead at Angora 
and he carried belated mail for us prisoners of war. 

I could not feel grateful to him, for my share was only one 
postcard. It was from a very dear aunt. But I knew that 
somewhere in the Turkish Post Office were many more — from 
my wife, my mother, and my father. So I grumbled at all 
things Ottoman. I did not know this innocent-looking piece 
of cardboard was going to provide the whole camp with a 
subject for discussion for a year to come, and eventually 
prove the open sesame that got two of us out of Turkey. 

Mail Day at Yozgad meant visits. The proper thing to do, 
after giving everybody time to read their letters several times 
over, was to go from room to room and pick up such scraps of 
war news as had escaped the eye of the censor. Some of us 
received cryptograms, or what we thought were cryptograms, 
from which we could reconstruct the position on the various 
fronts (if we had imagination enough), and guess at the 
progress of the war. The news that somebody's father's 
trousers had come down was, I remember, the occasion of a 
very merry evening, for it meant that Dad's Bags (or Bagh- 
dad) had fallen at last. If, as occasionally happened, we found 
hidden meanings where none was intended, and captured Metz 
or Jerusalem long before such a possibility was dreamt of in 

17 



i8 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

England, it did more good than harm, for it kept our optimism 
alive. 

I allowed the proper period to elapse and then crossed to 
the Seaman's room. "Come in," said Tudway to my inquir- 
ing head, "Mundey has been round already and we can give 
you all the news." (Mundey was our Champion Crypto- 
grammist.) 

We discussed the various items of nev/s in the usual way, 
and decided that the war could not possibly last another three 
months. Then Alec Matthews turned to me: 

"Had you any luck, Bones? What's your mail?" 

"Only a postcard," I said. "No news in it, but it suggests 
a means of passing the evenings. I'm fed up on roulette and 
cards, myself, and I'd like to try it." 

"What's the suggestion?" Alec asked. 

"Spooking," said I. 

"Cripes!" said Alec. 

We began next night, a serious little group of experimenters 
from various comers of the earth. Each of us in his own 
little sphere had seen something of the wonders of the world 
and was keen to learn more. There was "Doc." O'Farrell, 
the bacteriologist, who had fought sleeping-sickness in Central 
Africa. He argued that the fact that we could not see them 
was no proof that spooks did not exist, and told us of things 
revealed by the microscope, things that undoubtedly "are 
there," with queer shapes and grisly names. (The pictures 
he drew of some of his pet "bugs" gave me a new idea for 
my next nightmare.) Then there was Little, the geologist 
from the Sudan, who knew all about the earth and the con- 
struction thereof, and had dug up the fossilized remains of 
weird and enormous animals. His pets were as big as the 
Doc's were small. There was Price, the submarine man from 
under the sea, and Tudway (plain Navy) from on top of it. 
And there is a saying about those who go down to the sea in 
ships which was never truer than of these two men. There 
was Matthews, from India, sapper and scientist. He knew 
all about wireless telegraphy and ether and the various lengths 
of the various kinds of waves, and he did not see why "thought 
waves" should not exist in some of the gaps, in the series which 
we thought to be empty. And there was the writer, who knew 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 19 

nothing of scientific value. He had studied psychology at 
College, and human nature amongst the jungle folk in Burma. 

Such was the group which first took up spooking. None of 
us knew anything about the subject, but my postcard gave 
clear instructions and we followed them. Matthews brought 
in the best table we possessed (a masterpiece made by Colbeck 
out of an old packing-case), and Doc. groomed the top of it 
with the corner of his embassy coat, so as to make it slippery 
enough for the Spook to slide about on with comfort. 

Tudway and Price cut out squares of paper, and Little 
wrote a letter of the alphabet on each and arranged them in a 
circle round the edge of the table. I polished the tumbler in 
which we hoped to capture the Spook, and placed it upside 
down in the centre of the circle. Everything was ready. We 
had constructed our first "Ouija." 

"Now what do we do?" Doc. asked. 

''Two of us put a finger lightly on the glass^ close our eyes 
and make our minds blank." 

"Faithl" said the Doc, "we'd better get a couple of Red 
Tabs from the Majors' House; this looks like a Staff job. 
An' what next?" 

"Then the glass should begin to move about and touchPthe 
letters. Somebody must note down the ones touched." 

Doc. sat down and put his forefinger gingerly on the glass. 
I took the place opposite him. Price and Matthews, pencil 
in hand, leant forward ready to take notes. Little and Tud- 
way and Dorling and Boyes stood round to watch develop- 
ments. Doc. and I closed our eyes and waited, fingers resting 
lightly on the glass, arms extended. For perhaps fifteen 
minutes there was a tense silence and our arms grew unendur- 
ably numb. Nothing happened. 

Our places at the table were taken by two other investi- 
gators, and theirs in turn by two more, but always with 
a total absence of any result. We warmed the glass over a 
tallow candle — somebody had said it was a good thing to do 
— and re-polished the table. Then Doc. and I tried again. 

"Ask it some question," Price whispered. 

"WHO— ARE— YOU?" said the Doc. in sepulchral tones, 
and forthwith I was conscious of a tilting and a straining in 
the glass, and then, very slowly, it began to move in gradually 



20 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

widening circles. It touched a letter, and the whole company 
craned their necks to see it. 

"Bl" they whispered in chorus. 

It touched another. "Rl" said everybody. 

"I believe it is going to write 'Brown/ " said Dorling, and 
the movement suddenly stopped. 

"There ye go spoilin' everything with yer talkin*," growled 
the Doc, his Irish accent coming out under the influence of 
excitement. "Will ye hold your tongues now, and we'll be 
after tryin' again!" 

We tried again — ^we tried for several nights — but it was no 
use. The glass did not budge, or, if it did, it travelled in small 
circles and did not approach the letters. We blamed our 
tools for our poor mediumship and substituted a large enam- 
elled tray for the table, which had a crack down the centre 
where the glass used to stick. The tray was an improvement 
and we began to reach the letters. But we never got sense. 
The usual seance was something like this: 

Doc: "Who are you?" Answer: "DFPBJQ." 

Doc: "Try again. Who are you?" Answer: 
"DFPMGJQ." 

Matthews: "It's obviously trying to say something — the 
same letters nearly, each time. Try again." 

Doc: "Who are you?" Answer: "THRSWV." 

Matthews: "That's put the lid on. Ask something else." 

Doc: "Have you anything to say?" Answer: "WNSRY- 
KXCBJ," and so on, and so on, page after page of meaningless 
letters. It grew monotonous even for prisoners of war, and in 
time the less enthusiastic investigators dropped out. At the 
end of a fortnight only Price, Matthews, Doc O'Farrell and 
myself were left. We were intrigued by the fact that the glass 
should move at all without our consciously pushing it — I shall 
never forget Alec Matthews' cry of wonder the first time he 
felt the "life" in the glass — and we persevered. 

Then our friend Gatherer came in. He said he didn't care 
very much for this sort of thing, but he knew how to do it 
and would show us. He placed his fingers on the glass and 
addressed the Spook. We, as became novices, had always 
shown a certain respect in our manner of questioning the 
Unknown. Gatherer spoke as if he were addressing a de- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 21 

faulter, or a company on parade, with a ring in his voice which 
indicated he would stand no nonsense. And forthwith the 
glass began to talk sense. Its answers were short — usually 
no more than a "yes" or a "no" — but they were certainly 
understandable. Once more we were all intensely interested. 
Gatherer did more than add fuel to the waning fire of our 
enthusiasm. He presented us with his own spook-board, which 
he and another officer had made some months before, and 
used in secret. It was a piece of sheet iron on which the glass 
moved much more smoothly than on the tray or the table, 
and he suggested pasting down the letters in such a way that 
they could not be knocked off by the movement of the glass. 
Later on Matthews still further improved it by adding a 
raised "scantling" round the edge which prevented the glass 
from leaving the circle. 

Gatherer was in great request, for without him we could 
get nothing, try we never so hard. But he would not come — 
he "dishked it" — ^he "had other things to do," he "might come 
tomorrow," and so on. Ah, Gatherer, you have much to an- 
swer for! Had you never shown us that intelligible replies 
could be obtained, I might have remained an honest little en- 
quirer, happy in the mere moving of the glass. But now, 
mere movement was no longer satisfying. We were tired of 
our own company, and knew one another as only fellow-prison- 
ers can. We wanted a chat with somebody "outside," some- 
body with ideas culled beyond our prison walls, whose mind 
was not an open book to us, whose thoughts were not limited 
to the probable date of the end of the war or of the arrival 
of the next mail from home. It did not matter who it was — ■ 
Julius Caesar or Socrates, Christopher Columbus or Aspasia 
(it is true we rather hoped for Aspasia, especially the Doc), 
but any old Tom, or Dick, or Harry would have been welcome. 
You ought to have known that. Gatherer, for you were a pris- 
oner, too; but you were callous, and left us alone to record our 
meaningless X's, and Y's and Z's. 

After another week of failure we grew desperate. "If we 
get nothing to-night," said Matthews, "we'll chuck it." 

We tried hard, and got nothing. 

"One more shot, Bones," said the Doc, sitting down op- 
posite me. 



22 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

I glanced at him, and from him to Price and Matthews. 
Disappointment was written on every face. Success had 
seemed so near, and we had laboured so hard. Was this to 
end as so many of our efforts at amusement had ended, in 
utter boredom? 

The doctor began pulling up the sleeves of his coat as 
though he were leading a forlorn hope. 

"Right you are. Doc." I put my fingers on the glass. 
"One more shot," and as I said it the Devil of Mischief that is 
in every Celt whispered to me that the little man must not go 
empty away. We closed our eyes. 

"For the last time," said the Doc. "WHO— ARE— YOU?" 

The glass began to move across the board. 

"S-,"^ Matthews read aloud, "A-L-L-Y— SALLYI" 

"Sally," Price repeated, in a whisper. 

"Sally," I echoed again. 

The Doc. wriggled forward in his chair, tugging up his coat- 
sleeves. "Keep at it," he whispered excitedly. "Keep at it, 
we've got one at last." And then in a loud voice that had a 
slight quaver in it 

"GOOD EVENING, SALLYI HAVE YE ANYTHIN' 
TO TELL US?" 

Sally had quite a lot to tell us. She made love to Alec 
Matthews (much to his delight) in the most barefaced way, 
and then coolly informed him that she preferred sailor-boys. 
Price beamed, and replied in fitting terms. She talked seri- 
ously to the Doc. (who had murmured — out of jealousy, I 
expect — that Sally seemed a brazen hussy), and warned us to 
be careful what we said in the presence of a lady. (That 
"presence of a lady" startled us — most of us hadn't seen a 
lady for nearly three years.) She accused me of being un- 
becomingly dressed. (Pyjamas and a blanket — quite respect- 
able for a prisoner.) Then she complained of "feeling tired," 
made one or two most unladylike remarks when we pressed 
her to tell us more, and "went away." 

I had fully intended to tell them that I had steered the 
glass, with my eyes shut, from my memory of the position of 
the letters. But the talk became too good to interrupt. There 
were theories as to who Sally could be. Was she dead, or 
alive, or non-existent? Was the glass guided by a spook or 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 23 

by subconscious efforts? Then round again on to the old 
argument of why the glass moved at all. Was it the uncon- 
scious exercise of muscular force by one or both of the medi- 
ums or was it some external power? I lay back and listened to 
the sapper and the submarine man and the scientist from 
Central Africa. Others dropped in and added their voices 
and extracts from their experience to the discussion. Dorling 
had schoolboy reminiscences of a thought-reading entertain- 
ment, which was somehow allied to the subject in hand. Winnie 
Smith knew someone — I think it was one of his second cousins 
in Russia, or a crowned head, or somebody of the kind — who 
had a pet spook in the house. I told my story of the dak 
bungalow in Myinmu Township in Burma, where there is a 
black ghost-dog, who does not mind revolver bullets. We 
talked, and we talked, and we talked, forgetting the war and 
the sentries outside and all the monotony of imprisonment. 
And always the talk rounded back to Sally and the spook-glass 
that moved no one knew how. The others slipped away to bed, 
and we were left alone — ^Alec, Price, the Doc, and myself. 
I braced myself to confess the fraud, but Doc. raised his tin 
mug: 

"Here's to Sally and success, and many more happy eve- 
nings," said he. 

Facilis descensus Avernif I lifted my mug with the rest, 
and drank in silence. Little I guessed how much water was 
to flow under the bridges before I could make my confession, or 
under what strange conditions that confession was to be made. 

Next day I woke — a worm. I felt as if I had caught myself 
taking sweeties from a child. They had all accepted the 
wonder of the previous night so uncritically. It was a shame. 
It was unforgivable! I would get out of bed. I would go 
across and tell them at once. 

"Don't," said the Devil of Mischief. "Stay where you are. 
It was only a rag. If you really want to tell them, any old 
time will do. Besides, it's beastly cold this morning, and 
you've got a headache. Stay in bed!" 

"But it wasn't a rag. We were experimenting in earnest," 
said I. "That's why it was so mean." I got one foot out of 
bed. 



24 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"Stay where you are, I tell you," said the Devil. "You 
gave them a jolly good evening, and you can have plenty 
more." 

I pulled my foot back under the blankets again. Yes, we 
had had a jolly evening — the Doc. himself had said so. I 
would think it over a little longer. 

I thought it over — and started up again. 

"You assl" said the Devil. "They'll only laugh at you! 
The whole thing's a fraud, anjrway. Let them find out for 
themselves. Oliver Lodge, Conan Doyle, and the rest of the 
precious crew are victims in the same way." 

"I won't," said I. "I'm going to tell them." I got up and 
dressed slowly. 

"See Jaere," said the Devil. "What you gave them last 
night was something new to talk about. Carry on! It does 
them good. It sets them thinking. Carry on!" 

"And what sort of a swine will I look when they find me 
out?" said I. 

"But they won't," said the Devil. 

"But they will — they must," said I, and opened the door. 

On the landing outside was our "Wardie," once of America, 
doing Miiller's exercises to get the stiffness out of his wounded 
shoulder. That was a Holy Rite, which nothing was allowed 
to interrupt. But to-day he stopped and faced me. I think 
my Devil must have entered into him. 

"Hello, Bones, you sly dog!" said he.^ 

"What's up, Wardie?" 

"Oh, you don't get me with your larks," he said, grinning 
at me. "/ know you, you old leg-puller!" 

I made to pas§ on. 

"You and your Sally," he chuckled. 

"Oh, that!" I said, and tried again to pass. ' 

"Come on, Bones," he continued; "how d'you do it?" 

"Why, that's spooking, Wardie," said I. 

* Of course neither this nor any other of the conversations in the 
book claims to be a verbatim report of what was said. Such a thing 
would be difficult to give even after twenty-four hours — much more 
so after two years. These conversations are "true" in the sense 
that they are faithful reconstructions of my recollection of what 
took place. Every event mentioned in the book occurred. (See 
footnote, p. 103.) 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 25 

"Oh, get on with you! You don't catch mel I'm too old 
a bird, Sonny. How's it done?" 

"You've seen! You sit with your fingers on a glass, and 
the glass moves about." 

"Yes, yes, it moves all right. But this Sally business? 
These answers?" 

"That's what everybody's trying to find out, Wardie." 

"I'll find out one of these fine days, Bones me boy!" He 
dug his thumb into my ribs and laughed at me. 

"Right-o, Wardie," said I, and went back into my room. 
My dander was up. 



CHAPTER II 

HOW THE CAMP TURNED SPIRITUALIST 

I MADE up my mind to rag for an evening or two more 
and to face the music, when it came, in the proper spirit. 
There was a recognized form of punishment at Yozgad 
for a ''rag." It was a "posh." ^ In my case, with 
Doc, Matthews, Price, and of course the Seaman (who al- 
ways joined in on principle) as my torturers, I expected it 
would be a super-posh, and trembled accordin'. I had no 
doubt in my own mind that discovery would come very 
soon. 

When evening came round, there were Alec, Doc, and 
Price waiting round the spook-board with their tongues out, 
wanting more "Sally." I sat down with the unholy joy of the 
small boy preparing a snowball in ambush for some huge and 
superior person of uncertain temper, and with not a little of 
his fear of being found out before the snowball gets home on 
the target. 

"Now, Doc," said I, tr5dng to avert suspicion from myself, 
"don't you get larking. I'm beginning to suspect you." 

"And I'm suspecting you," he laughed. "Come on, ye old 
blackguard ! " ■ 

We started, and for several minutes got nothing but a 
series of unintelligible letters. The reason for this was simple 
enough. The "medium's" mind was blank. I hadn't the 
foggiest notion of what to say, and could only push the glass 
about indiscriminately. Matthews and Price faithfully noted 

^ I believe the English language is indebted to Lieut. L. C. P. 
TuDWAY, R.N., for the invention of this word. A "posh" is a good- 
tempered cross between a riot and a rugby scrum. The object of the 
"poshers" is conjointly and severally to sit upon the victim and to 
pinch, smack, tickle, or otherwise torture him until he begs for 
mercy. 

26 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 27 

down every letter touched. This kept everybody happy, and 
as a matter of fact formed a useful precedent for future 
occasions. 

"It's there all right," said Alec. "Keep it up, you fellows. 
We'll get something soon." 

Gatherer came in, and after watching for a minute gave an 
order to the Spook in his parade voice: "Go round and look 
at your letters." 

The indiscriminate zig-zagging stopped and the glass went 
round the circle slowly. 

"Geel Snakes!" said Alec. "That's the stuff, Gatherer; 
give It some more!" 

"No sense in being afraid of the blighter," said Gatherer. 
"Here! Stop going round now! Tell us who you are!" 

"Go — to — hell!" came the answer. 

Gatherer was not abashed. "Is that where you are?" he 
asked, and the Spook began to swear most horribly. My 
mind was no longer blank; it teemed with memories of my 
court in Burma, and the glass said to Gatherer what the old 
bazaar women of the East say to one another before they get 
"run in." 

"All right, old chap," said Gatherer. "That's enough. I'm 
sorry. I apologise." 

"Go away," said the Spook, and until Gatherer obeyed the 
glass would do nothing but repeat, "Go away," "Go away," 
to every question that was asked. 

Looking back, I can see this was an important episode. Of 
course the glass wrote "go away" because I could think of 
nothing better to say at the moment (practice was to make 
my imagination much more fertile), and it kept on repeating 
the request because I had begun to wonder if I really could 
make Gatherer leave the room. 

"Shall I go?" Gatherer asked. 

"Faith! You'd better," said the Doc, "or who knows 
what It will be saying next?" 

Gatherer went, and the Spook began to write again. It 
might well do so, for It had begun to establish its "Authority." 

Now, for successful spooking, "Authority" is all-important. 
The utterances of a medium "under control" must be, and are 
for the believer, the object of an unquestioning reverence. 



28 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

I have two small mites of children. They usually demand 
a "story" of an evening. Since my return they have gradually 
established a precedent, and it has become a condition for 
their going to bed. I take them on my knees, their silky hair 
against my cheeks, and look into the fire for inspiration about 
"elephants" or "tigers" or "princesses," or whatever may be 
the subject of immediate interest and then I begin. I don't 
go very far without a question, and when that is successfully 
negotiated there are two more questions on the ends of their 
restless tongues. The linked answers comprise the story. No- 
body makes any bones about the credibility of it, because 
"father tells it." Thousands of other fathers are doing the 
same every day. Parents yet to be will continue the good 
work for the generations unborn. 

What the parent is for the child, the medium is for "be- 
lievers." The gentle art, as Hill (my ultimate partner in the 
game) and I know it, is merely a matter of shifting the au- 
thorship of the answers from yourself to some Unknown Third, 
whose authority has become as unquestionable to the "sitter" 
as the father's is to the child. Once that is achieved the 
problem in each case is precisely the same. It consists in 
answering questions in a manner satisfactory to the audience. 
I also find there is no fundamental difference in the material 
required for the "links." Granted the "authority," the same 
sort of stuff pleases them all alike, children and grown-up 
"sitters." If you have ever watched a true believer at a 
sitting you will know exactly what I mean; and if you can 
describe the palace of an imaginary princess, you can also 
describe the sixth, or seventh, or the eighth "sphere." But 
of course you must always be careful to call it a "palace" in 
the one instance, and a "sphere" in the other. 

I did not realize this all at once. I did not set out with 
any scheme of building up the Spook's authority. I laid out 
for myself no definite line of action against my friends. My 
policy, in fact, was that by which our own British Empire has 
grown. I determined to do the job nearest to hand as well as 
I could, and to tackle each problem as it arose. I would 
"rag around a bit" and then withdraw as soon as circum- 
stances permitted me to do so gracefully. "But circumstances 
never permitted. One thing led to another, and my "commit- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 2g 

ments" in the spook-world grew steadily, as those of our 
Empire have done in this. 

Nor, needless to say, did I see at this time the faintest re- 
semblance between Alec calling for "Sally" and my small boy 
demanding a "story" at my knee. To me, Alec and Doc. and 
Price (not to mention the rest of the camp) were grown men, 
thewed and sinewed, with the varied store of wisdom that 
grown men acquire in their wanderings up and down the wide 
seas and the broad lands of this old Empire of ours. They 
were "enquirers" — not "true believers" as yet — and as I was 
to find out in due course, they were "no mugs" at enquiring. 
I could only hug myself at the idea of the poshing I would get 
when the rag was discovered, and fight my hardest to ward 
off the evil day. 

Soon after Gatherer left the room my career as a medium 
almost came to an inglorious end. The trap into which I 
nearly fell was not consciously set, so far as I am aware, for 
in those early days when everything was fresh the interest of 
the audience was centred more in the substance of the com- 
munications than in the manner in which they were produced. 

The situation arose in this way: being a medium was a 
tiring game. An hour on end of pushing the glass about at 
arm's length required considerable muscular effort. Your arm 
became as heavy as lead; until we got into training Doc. and 
I had to take frequent rests. This fatigue was natural enough, 
and everybody knew of it, but nobody knew that practically 
the whole of my body was subjected to a physical strain. At 
this period of my mediumship I used to close my eyes quite 
honestly; I was therefore obliged to remember the exact posi- 
tion of each letter, not only in its relation to other letters 
but also to myself, so as to be able to steer the glass to it. The 
slightest movement of the spook-board, caused, for example, 
by my sleeve or the Doc's catching on the edge of it, as some- 
times happened, was sufficient to upset all my calculations 
until I had had an opportunity of glancing at it again. I used 
to try to guard against this by resting my left hand lightly on 
the edge of the board. I could then feel any movement, and 
at the same time my left hand formed a guide to my right, 
for, before closing my eyes, I used to note what letter my little 
finger was resting on. I had two other guides — ^my right and 



30 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

my left foot under the table gave me the angles of two other 
letters. If the reader will try and sit for an hour, moving 
his right hand freely, but with both feet and the left hand 
absolutely still, he will understand why indefinite sittings were 
impossible. Add to this the concentration of mind necessary 
to remember the letters, to invent suitable answers to ques- 
tions, and to spell them out. 

"I am fagged out," I said wearily. "Don't you feel the 
strain. Doc?" 

"Only my arm." He rubbed the numbness out of it. 
"Come on. Bones, let's get some more; this is interesting." 

"I'm dead beat. I feel it all over me. It seems to take a 
lot out of me." 

The three looked at me curiously. They obviously regarded 
me as a medium who had been under "control." {En passant, 
I wonder if the "exhaustion" of all mediums after a seance 
is not due to similar causes?) 

"Right you are. Bones," said Price, "I'll take your place. 
You come and note down." 

I took his pencil and notebook, and he sat down to the 
board with the Doc. The glass moved and touched letters, 
but they made, of course, nothing intelligible. After a space, 
when I had rested. Doc. said his arm was tired and suggested 
I should take his place. I did so. Price and I were now at the 
glass. Somebody asked a question. I started to reply in the 
usual way, but luckily realized in time what I was doing, and 
instead of giving a coherent answer, allowed the glass to 
wander among the X's and Y's at its own sweet will. It had 
flashed across my mind that so long as I obtained answers 
only when the Doc. was my partner, no "sceptic" could tell 
which of the two of us was controlling the glass. If, on the 
other hand, I obtained answers in conjunction with others as 
well as when with the Doc, while no other pair in combination 
could do so, I was clearly indicated as the control, and a very 
simple process of elimination would doom me to discovery. I 
therefore came to a hurried decision that only when the Doc. 
was my partner should the Unknown be allowed to speak, and 
it was not till long after the Spook had proved to the satisfac- 
tion of our "enquirers" its own separate existence that I per- 
mitted myself to break this resolution. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 31 

So Price and I continued to bang out unintelligible answers 
until everybody was tired of it. Matthews, who amongst 
other objectionable pieces of knowledge had acquired some- 
thing of Mathematics, then worked out the Combinations and 
Permutations of four spookists, two together, and insisted we 
should test them all. We did. The only result was pages of 
Q's and M's, of X's, Y's and Z's. Bones and the Doc. were 
the only pair who got answers. 

At our after-seance talk, this led to a new discovery — new, 
that is, for us. It was obvious that mediums must be en 
rapport! We attacked the subject from all sides, and, as 
usual, others joined in our discussion. When I went to l3ed, 
Matthews was demonstrating, with the aid of two tallow 
candles on a deal box, something about wave-lengths, and 
positive and negative electricity, and tuning up and down to 
the same pitch. I am sure I don't know what it was all about, 
but it clearly proved the necessity of something being en 
rapport with something else in the material world. There- 
fore why not the same necessity for spiritual things? So 
far as I remember. Alec, old man, your theory was quite 
sound — it was your facts that were wrong! Perhaps I should 
have told you so, and saved you much hard thinking: but put 
yourself in my place — wasn't it fun? 

Thus we continued for several evenings. The camp looked 
on with mingled amusement and interest. Our seances began 
to be a popular form of evening entertainment. Quite a little 
crowd would gather round the board, and ask questions of 
the Spook. For the most part, at this stage, the audiences 
were sceptical — they suspected a trick somewhere, though they 
could not imagine how it was done. Curiously enough, sus- 
picion centred not on me, but on the perfectly innocent 
Doctor. The poor man was pestered continually to reveal the 
secret. He swore vehemently that he had nothing to do with 
it, but it was pointed out to him that the glass only wrote 
when he was there — a fact he could not deny. 

This sceptical attitude of the camp was of the utmost value 
to me. It amounted to a challenge and spurred me to fresh 
efforts. The whole affair being a rag, with no definite aim in 
view, it would not have been fair play to the enquirers to 



32 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

have told an out-and-out lie. But I considered it quite legit- 
imate to dodge their questions if I could do so successfully. 
The following is a type of the conversations that were common 
at this period: 

"Look here, Bones, is this business between you and the 
Doc. straight?" 

"How do you mean, 'straight'?" 

"This spooking business! Is it genuine?" 

"Jack," I would say confidentially (or Dick, or Tom, as 
the case might be), "I'll tell you something. The whole thing 
is mysterious. I assure you there is no arrangement whatso- 
ever between the Doc. and myself. The camp think we are 
in league for a leg-pull. But we're not. We took this busi- 
ness up as an enquiry — see, here's the original postcard." 

And I would produce the well-worn bit of cardboard which 
first suggested the spooking, and gently disentangle Jack's 
fingers from my buttonhole. 

Perhaps "Jack" would be satisfied and go away, or perhaps 
he would be a persistent blighter and carry on. 

"But how is it done, Bones?" 

"You mean, what makes the glass move?" 

"Well— yes." 

"My own theory — it may be wrong, of course, because I've 
never done much at Psychical Research — my own theory is 
that the movement must be due to muscular action on the 
part of the mediums. I believe Oliver Lodge and those other 
Johnnies hold that the muscular action is subconscious, but 
that is Tommy-rot. Anything is subconscious so long as you 
don't think of the process of thought, and nothing is sub- 
conscious so long as it is known. Besides," I would add, 
looking up into my questioner's face as innocently as I could, 
"as soon as the glass begins to move about I am quite con- 
scious of every movement. That's straight. The Doc. will 
tell you the same thing. I must admit that he has often 
pointed out to me that one seems to be following the glass 
about. He has been analysing his own sensations from the 
medical point of view, and he is rather interesting on this 
point. You should ask him about it." 

"I will," Jack would say, and off he would go to cross-ex- 
amine the poor old Doc. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 33 

Probably Dick or Tom had been listening to our conversa- 
tion, and would now chip in with: 

"That's all very well, Bones, but I believe you're playing 
the fool all the time. Now aren't you?" 

"Right-o, Dick! If you like to think I'm ass enough to sit 
there night after night for the mere lark of the thing, you're 
welcome." 

"But the whole affair's absurd, impossible," Dick would 
protest. 

"You say so, but what about Oliver Lodge? He has studied 
this business for years, and swears he gets into commimica- 
tion with the next world in this way. And he is a scientist, 
my boy, while you are a plain soldier man and don't know 
your arm from your elbow in these matters. A few years 
ago I expect you were saying that wireless telegraphy and 
flying and all the rest of our modem scientific marvels were 
impossible. You are the conservative type of fellow who 
doesn't believe a thing possible until he can do it himself. 
Why, you old idiot, for all you know you may be a medium 
yourself. Why don't you come along and try some night?" 

And Dick would come, and try, and get nothing! 

I was often grateful in those days for my past experience 
as a magistrate in Burma. My study of law and lawyers 
helped me considerably in the gentle art of drawing a red 
herring across my questioners' train of thought. 

I was beginning to think that the business had gone on long 
enough, and it was time to confess, when Fate stepped in again. 
Intrigued by our success, several other groups of experimenters 
had been formed in the camp, notably in the Hospital House. 
One fine morning we were electrified by the news that there 
also "results" had been obtained. 

The Doc. came up to me as I was walking in the lane. He 
was all hunched up with glee. 

"Faith," he said to me, "the sceptics have got it in the 
neck. Here's Nightingale and Bishop been an' held a long 
conversation with the spooks last night." 

"I don't see that that will make much difference to the 
sceptics," said I. 

"But I do," said the Doc. "The camp doesn't believe in it 
now because you're you and I'm me. But who in Tiurkey or 



34 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

out of it can suspect fellows like Bishop and Nightingale? — 
that's what I want to know." 

"And why not suspect Bishop and Nightingale?" I asked. 

"Ach! ye might as well suspect a babe unborn. Not one 
of the two of them has the imagination of a louse. They're 
plain, straightforward Englishmen — not Celtic fringe like you 
an' me — an' the camp knows it." 

"But don't you suspect them yourself?" I asked. "You 
said the other day that you suspected me, you know." 

"So I did, but that's different, as I say. These two are 
genuine enough." 

"No doubt," said I, for I was quite open-minded about the 
possibilities of "spooking." "Whom were they talking to last 
night?" 

"Oh — just Sally, and Silas P. Warner, and that lot," said 
the Doc. "Same crowd of spooks as we get ourselves." 

I glanced at him to see if he was joking. He wasn't. Lord! 
Doc. dear, how I longed to laugh 1 

Either Nightingale or Bishop (I did not know which at the 
time) was fudging. I knew this for certain because they were 
using "spooks" of my own creation. It puzzled me at the 
time to know why they should not have invented spooks of 
their own. I learned long afterwards that mine were adopted 
because it was thought that my show was possibly genuine. 
If so, what could be more natural than that the spirits which 
haunted the Upper House should also be found next door? 

The position was now rather funny. I knew, of course, 
that both "shows" were frauds. The villain of the piece in 
the Hospital House knew his own show was a fraud, but was 
not sure about mine. The majority of the camp, on the other 
hand, were inclined to think there might be something in the 
Hospital House exhibition, although they had viewed mine 
with suspicion. But if they accepted the Hospital House, they 
had to accept ours too, the spooks being the same. And, in 
the course of time, that was what happened. 

The development in the Hospital House had another result. 
My little "rag" was assuming larger proportions than I had 
intended, and as often happens in this funny old world, cir- 
cumstances were beginning to tie me up. I could not now 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 35 

confess without giving somebody else away at the same time 
as myself. Besides, I did not very much want to confess. 
The "conversion" of a large portion of the camp was in sight, 
for Doc. was quite right in his analysis of the situation, and 
the entry of Bishop and Nightingale on the scene had disposed 
everybody to further enquiry into the matter. The position 
was beginning' to have a keen psychological interest for me. 

So I compromised with my conscience. Freeland drew for 
me a fitting poster — a picture of a spook-glass and board, and 
beneath it I placed a notice which said that ours was the 
original Psychical Research Society of Yozgad, that it had no 
connection with any other firm, and that we held seances on 
stated evenings. Our fellow-prisoners were asked to attend. 
The closest inspection was invited. The poster ended by say- 
ing that the mediums each suspected the other and would 
welcome any enquirer who could decide how the rational 
movements of the glass were caused. Muscular action, thought 
transference, spiritualism and alcoholism were suggested to 
the camp as possible solutions. 

Shortly after this notice was put up. Doc. and I were asked 
if we objected to a series of "tests." Doc, strong in his ovra 
innocence, welcomed the suggestion. As for me, it was exactly 
what I wanted — the raison d'etre of my notice. Up to now 
it had been "a shame to take the money." This put us on a 
reasonable basis. If all were discovered, as I expected would 
be the case, I'd get my poshing, there would be a good laugh 
all round, and that would be the end of it. If by any fluke of 
fortune I survived, the testers would only have themselves to 
blame afterwards. It was now a fair fight — my wits against 
the rest — catch as catch can, and all grips allowed. Neither 
the Doc. nor I made any conditions, nor did we want to know 
beforehand the nature of the tests to which we were to be 
subjected. 

But I took my precautions. I secretly nicked the edges of 
the circle on which the letters were written in such a way that 
I could always recognize, by touch, the position of the board. 



CHAPTER III 

HOW THE MEDIUMS WERE TESTED 

THERE was an empty room that formed part of the 
passage-way between the two portions of the Upper 
House. It was insanitary, draughty and cheerless. 
It had an uneven brick floor of Arctic coldness. 
The view from the broken-paned, closely-barred window was 
restricted to a blank wall and a few ruined houses. Here, in 
the early days before the Turk increased our accommoda- 
tion, five unhappy officers of the Worcester Yeomanry had 
learned the full bitterness of captivity. They were not very 
big men, but when they were all lying down on the floor to- 
gether (as they usually were, poor devils) there was barely 
space to step between them, which shows the size of the room. 
Of its general undesirability no better proof is wanted than 
that it remained uninhabited after the "Cavalry Club" had 
found better quarters. One thing only would have induced 
anyone to take up his dwelling there — the hope of privacy. 
But the room was not even private. It was a thoroughfare, the 
only means of getting from the northern to the southern half 
of the house. 

It was not allowed to remain quite idle. Its dirty "white"- 
washed walls, brushwood ceiling, broken windows and uneven 
floor saw the birlh of many schemes for alleviating the monot- 
ony of existence in Yozgad. Here was rehearsed our first 
Christmas Pantomime — "The Fair Maid of Yozgad" — which 
is perhaps unique amongst pantomimes in that it had to be 
performed secretly, at midnight, after the guards had done 
their nightly round. For in it Holyoake and Dorling had 
given full rein to our feelings towards our captors, and it 
would not have been polite — or judicious^ — for "honoured 
guests" to have expressed themselves quite so freely in public. 
Here Sandes's orchestra of home-made instruments used to 

36 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 37 

hold their practices, which caused a keen student of Darwin 
to vow he had no further interest in one branch of evolution — 
that of music. Here "Little, Stoker & Co." made their gallant 
attempt to start an illicit still, and here, finally, the "Spook" 
took up his abode. 

The tests were spread over several evenings. I can only 
give brief samples of what occurred. When Doc. and I sat 
down to the table we were the centre of a little crowd of 
spectators and "detectives," for there was nothing secret about 
the seances. 

"Bandage the beggars for a start," somebody suggested. 

Handkerchiefs were tied round our eyes. 

"Who are you?" asked Alec. 

The glass began to move about. I was writing rubbish. 
Some sceptic laughed. 

"Wait a bit," said Price. "It always begins like that. Now 
who are you?" 

"S-I-double L-Y, Silly!" the sceptic read out. "That's 
rather a poor shot for 'Sally.' The bandage affects the Spook, 
it seems." 

"A-S-S," the Spook went on. "I-T M-A-K-E-S N-0 D-I-F- 
F-E-R-E-N-C-E." 

"We'll see!" said the sceptic. I felt the board being moved 
under my hand. "Now who are you?" 

As the glass circled under my right hand, I felt for and 
found the secret nicks with my left thumb. 

"U T-H-I-N-K U A-R-E C-L-E-V-E-R." 

Slim Jim was lounging about the room. He was Doc's 
prize patient and was at that time afflicted with the enormous 
appetite that follows a long bout of dysentery and fever. 

"Poses as a thought-reader, does he?" he said. "Here! 
What am I thinking about?" 

"Your dinner," said the Spook, and everybody laughed. 

And so on. Mistakes were made, of course, and the glass 
frequently went to "next-door" letters, but not more so than 
on ordinary occasions. It became generally accepted by the 
company that whether the mediums had their eyes bandaged 
or not, and whether the position of the board was altered or 
not, it made no difference. 

Once, when the board was moved, my questing thumb failed 



38 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

to locate the nicks 1 I was in a quandary, for I dared not 
feel openly for the guiding marks. But I got my position in 
another way. The glass began to bang away at one spot. 

"Right," said Matthews. ''Get on." 

Still the glass banged away at the same letter. 

"All right, I've got that one," Alec repeated. 

But the glass paid no attention. It continued the monoto- 
nous tapping. 

"Looks like doing this all night," I said. "It's getting 
wearisome. Curse it a bit, someone." 

"Leave that damned 'D' alone!" said an obliging spectator. 

"-0-N-T S-W-E-A-R" the Spook went on at once. We had 
got our bearings again. 

One evening some fiend — I think it was Holyoake — sug- 
gested turning the circle with the letters face downwards, a 
number being written on the back of each letter. The num- 
bers touched were to be noted down, and any message given 
was to be deciphered afterwards. The inversion was made and 
it gave me furiously to think. The problem would have been 
easy enough had it merely meant a reversal of all the motions 
of the glass — i.e., if all the letters were diametrically opposite 
to their usual stations, as happened when the board was 
merely twisted round a half-revolution. I was accustomed to 
that; but this was different. Take an ordinary dinner-plate. 
Mark the points of the compass on it. Now, for the sake of 
clearness, revolve the plate on the axis of the North-South 
line, and turn it face downwards. The North point is still in 
the same position. So is the South point; but while East has 
changed places with West, North-East has become not South- 
West but North- West; East-Nor'-East has become not West- 
South- West but West-Nor'- West, and so on. Given time, I 
could no doubt have worked out the position of each letter as 
I came to it, and moved the glass with fair accuracy. But to 
have altered the usual rate of movement would have aroused 
suspicion. The glass must move at the usual pace, or not at 
all; but how to do it? My memory had created for itself a 
picture of the board. Given any one letter, I could visualize 
the positions of the rest almost automatically, and my hand 
could guide the glass to them with as little conscious effort as 
a pianist, given his C natural, finds in hitting the right keys 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 39 

in the dark. Imagine the state of mind of a musician who finds 
the C natural in the usual place, but the bass notes on his 
right and the treble notes on his left! 

Opposite me the Doc. sat. He had nothing to trouble him, 
no problem to work out. His one task in life was to let his 
hand follow the movements of the glass, to wait for it to move, 
and then neither hinder nor help but go whither it led. To 
him it did not matter where the letters were — they might be 
upside down or inside out for all he cared. The Spook would 
take him there. He breathed easily, in the serenity of a full 
faith, while the glass moved slowly round and round and I 
thought and thought and thought. I tried hard to construct 
in my mind a looking-glass picture of the board, and failed. 
To give myself time I worked out the positions of the N and 
the O, and for a spell answered every question with a "No." 
Then all of a sudden the solution flashed into my mind. After 
all, I was the Spook. There was, therefore, no reason why I 
should not, like every other decently educated spook, be able 
to see things through a table, or any other small impediment 
of that sort. Instead of imagining myself to be looking down 
at the board from above the table, I only had to imagine my- 
self to be looking up at the board from below the table to have 
everything in its right position once more. In thirty seconds 
the glass was writing as freely as ever. 

I do not think my friends ever realized the difficulty of the 
task they had set me, or how near we were that night to 
failure. Certainly I got no credit for the performance. For 
I, like the Doc, was only a medium. The credit went where 
it belonged — to the Spook. 

"You birds satisfied?" asked the Doc. genially, as he leaned 
back in his ricketty chair, smoking a cigarette after the trial. 
"How long are we going to keep up this testing business? 
Seems to me the Spook has had you cold every time. For 
myself, I'd like to get on to something more interesting." 

"So would I," said I, and I spoke from the bottom of my 
heart. "The position seems to me to be this. Either Doc.'s 
fudging, or he's not, and " 

"I tell you I'm not," said the Doc. emphatically. 

"Some of us don't believe you," said I; "that's why ihey 
are testing you." 



40 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"Blow me tight! They're testing you as much as mel I 
know nothin' about it!" 

"Well, put it this way: either we are fudging or we are not. 
Will that satisfy you, Doc?" 

"The way I'd put it," said the little man, "would be — 
either you are pullin' our blooming legs off or we've struck a 
sixty-horse-power, armour-plated spook of the very first qual- 
ity. An' faith, I wouldn't put it past ye — ^ye vagabond!" 

"Right-o!" I laughed. "Assume I'm fudging. What does 
it mean? You'll admit I've been properly blindfolded?" 

"We do," said Matthews and Price together. 

"I know / was," grumbled the Doc, rubbing his eyes. 

"Therefore it must have been memory work. D'you think 
you can remember the position of all the letters on the board 
without looking at them?" 

"Sorra a wan!" said the Doctor. 

"I believe I could," said Matthews. 

"Well, shut your eyes and try to push the glass to them," 
I suggested. 

Matthews sat down. He started well, but he had no guide 
except his own general position and soon went hopelessly 
astray. "It would need a lot of practice," he said. 

"Seen me practising, any of you?" I asked. 

"We have not," said the Doc, "an' what's m.ore we know 
you haven't got the patience for it. Besides, you couldn't 
have told us all these things we've had out of the board." 

"The thing that knocks the memory theory on the head," 
said Price, "is the fact of the board being moved about after 
you were blindfolded. No amount of memory would help 
you if you couldn't see." 

"I couldn't see — I didn't even try," I answered with perfect 
truth. 

"Besides, you old ass," Price went on with a grin, "we 
know you forget your tie as often as not, and you forgot your 
lines at the Panto, though you'd only about five, and you 
nearly left out the Good Fairy's song altogether." He began 
to laugh. "The idea of accusing you of having a memory, 
Bones, is too blessed ridiculous for words. It's worse than 
believing in the Spook." 

"You needn't rub it in," said I. "If I did not remember my 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 41; 

exact lines at the Panto, I made others just as good. I haven't 
got a blooming photographic snapshot camera of a memory like 
Merriman's, but it's as good as my neighbour's, anyway." 

By now they were all laughing at me. I quoted poetry I 
had learned at school to prove I had a memory. They only 
laughed the more. 

"What's the day of the week?" the Doc. asked suddenly, as 
if he had forgotten an engagement. 

"Hanged if I know," said I. It was easy for a prisoner to 
forget the day of the week. 

"There ye are, ye see!" said the Doc, and they all jeered, 
loud and long. 

They agreed it could not be done by memory. 

"Can you think of any other way of fudging it?" I asked. 

They could not. 

"Then if it is not my memory it must be yours, Doc." 

"What's the good of sayin' it is me when I'm tellin' ye it's 
not," said the Doc. wrathfully. "You are as bad as the worst 
sceptic in the place. I couldn't do it if I tried, nor could the 
best man among you. It can't be a fudge! Look the facts 
in the face and admit it!" 

"I don't see how it can," said Matthews. "We must look 
for some other explanation — telepathy, or subconscious com- 
munication, or something of that sort. That's the next prob- 
lem." 

"We are getting on," I said. 

We were. But not in the sense they imagined. 

Advanced investigators of Spiritualism are like sword-swal- 
lowers. They can take in with ease what no ordinary mortal 
can stomach. For in matters of belief, as elsewhere, "il n'y a 
que le premier pas qui coute." It is all a matter of practice 
and experience. We in Yozgad had not yet acquired the ca- 
pacity of an Oliver Lodge or a Conan Doyle, but we were 
getting along very well for beginners. The stage of "True-be- 
lieverdom" was in sight when my little flock would cease from 
talking about "elementary details" and concentrate their at- 
tention on the "greater truths of the World Beyond." Once 
a medium has been accepted as bona fide he has quite a nice 
job — as easy as falling off a log, and much more amusing. 
Expert crede! 



42 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

The growth of a belief is difficult to describe, for growth is 
not a matter of adding one piece here and another there. It 
is not an addition at all, it is a process; and the most that 
can be done in describing it is to state a few of the outstand- 
ing events and say, "this marks one stage in the process, that 
another." But the process itself does not move by jerks. Nor 
is it the sum total of these separate events. In any investiga- 
tion each point as it is reached is subjected to proof. Once 
passed as proved it forms in its turn part of the foundation for 
a further advance in belief. It is the part of the investigator 
to make certain he does not admit as correct a single false 
deduction. If he does the whole of his subsequent reasoning 
is liable to be affected. 

It is particularly easy, in a question like spiritua^sm, to 
allow fallacy to creep in. There is a basis of curious phe- 
nomena which certainly exist and are recognized by scientists 
as indubitable facts. But the investigator must be careful, 
in every instance, to assure himself that he is in the presence 
of the genuine phenomenon, and not of an imitation of it, 
and, as a matter of fact, this is sometimes impossible to do. 
Thus there is no doubt that the glass will move without the 
person whose fingers are resting on it exercising any force 
consciously. In the early days of honest experiment, we had 
satisfied ourselves on this point. It was within the experience 
of all of us. Many of us (I myself was one) could move it 
alone, without conscious effort; and before long we came to 
expect the movement to take place, and to regard it as the 
natural consequence of placing our hands in a certain position. 
When I began to move the glass consciously there was no out- 
ward indication that any change had taken place, and nobody 
could prove I was pushing it rather than "following" it. 
Nevertheless, the investigators were no longer in the presence 
of the genuine phenomenon, though they thought they were. 

From the knowledge that the movement of the glass could 
be caused by an unconscious exercise of force, to the belief 
that the rational movement of the glass was caused in the 
same unconscious way, was but a little step. It is a step 
which many eminent men have taken after years of patient in- 
vestigation. My friends could hardly have been blamed had 
they taken it at once. The fact that they saw fit to test the 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 43 

"mediums" and failed to discover the fraud does not prove 
they were fools. It does show that at least th^ were moder- 
ately careful, and it should be noted that the reasoning by 
which they led themselves astray was well based on facts. 
The trouble was it did not take into consideration all the 
facts that were relevant. They argued: "We ourselves 
moved the board round. The only means by which we could 
tell the new position of the letters was by looking. Bones was 
blindfolded. He could not see. Therefore he could not know 
the new position of the board." 

The relevant fact omitted was that man possesses the sense 
of touch as well as of vision. It was a failure of observa- 
tion as well as of logic. They should have watched my left 
thumb. 

Then, as corroboration, they argued: "It is notorious 
Bones' memory failed him at the Pantomime, and on other 
similar occasions. Therefore Bones has a bad memory. No 
man v/ith a bad memory could carry in his head the position 
of twenty-six letters. Therefore Bones did not do so" — 
which neglects the fact that stage-memory is a thing quite 
apart and by itself. 

Had anyone observed my thumb, groping cautiously for the 
secret marks, I should have failed. Nobody observed it. 
Therefore I succeeded. It was only a very small instance of 
incomplete observation, but it made all the difference. 

There is a further point to remember. While these tests 
were proceeding, the Spook was not idle. He did not take 
them lying down. The best defence is always attack. It 
would never do to allow the investigators to assume the com- 
plete control of the operations, to concentrate on any single 
point, or to examine their own reasoning in all its nakedness. 
Therefore, while they were trying to discover the origin of 
the rational movement of the glass, the Spook counter-attacked 
continually by framing his replies to their questions in such 
a way as to divert the interest of the audience to the subject 
matter of the answers and away from the manner in which 
they were obtained. The Spook gave, for instance, apprecia- 
tions of the military situation on various fronts which formed 
splendid food for discussion and eventually led to the issue at 
frequent intervals of a Spook Communique. There was one 



44 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

famous night which did much to establish the authenticity of 
our "control." In answer to a query about the progress of 
the war, the Spook told us that America was ready to lend a 
hand. 

"What's America going to do?" Alec Matthews asked. 

"Troops — ready now — waiting," came the answer. 

"Where are they waiting, and how many?" 

"At sea — 100,000." 

An excited buzz of conversation rose round the table. 

"Just a minute," said a Transport expert. "What shipping 
have they got?" 

(I was now on dangerous ground^ and I knew it. I made 
a rapid calculation.) 

"Three-quarter million tons," came the answer. 

"Where bound?" asked the expert coldly. 

"Vladivostok." 

"Russia — by Jove!" "Perhaps the Caucasus!" "We may 
get out this summer after all." The audience had got quite 
excited. Their whispered comments reached me as I waited 
for the next question. 

"Composition of the force?" — the expert continued his 
cross-examination. 

"Three complete divisions. Five hundred aeroplanes. Motor 
fleet." 

"Total number of ships, please?" 

"Large and small, 102." There was no pause between 
question and answer. 

Several of the audience had pencil and paper out (includ- 
ing the Transport specialist), and were making detailed cal- 
culations. 

"By Jove," said the expert, "the figures work out about 
correct, so far as I can see." Then, in a fit of suspicion; "Do 
you know anything about transport, Doc?" 

"Devil a bit," said the Doctor. "An' I know Bones doesn't. 
He's only a week-end gunner." 

"We all know that," said Alec. 

I grinned and bore it. I knew only one thing about trans- 
port. I had read somewhere and some-when that a modern 
division needs seven tons of shipping per head for a long 
voyage, and my poor old memory had stored up this useless 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 45 

bit of lore. The Spook got the credit and went on cheerily 
to outline the American scheme for strengthening the Russian 
front. Next day in the lane, Staff Officers spent a happy 
morning arguing about the length of time it would take the 
Siberian railway to transport the troops to the front! 

Meanwhile another factor was contributing greatly to over- 
come the suspicions of the camp in general and of my own 
investigators in particular. The Hospital House Spook was 
going great guns. It produced some first-rate "evidential" 
matter about various officers — usually relating to some secret 
of a "lurid" past which was grudgingly admitted by the vic- 
tim to be true— and was exceedingly well informed on mat- 
ters relating to the war. Neither Nightingale nor Bishop had 
any special acquaintance with the geography of the Western 
Front — (that was an "accepted fact" in the camp) — ^yet their 
Spook continually referred to obscure towns and villages all 
along the line! This was regarded as a peculiar phenomenon. 
It is a still more curious phenomenon why the average Brit- 
isher always iviU under-estimate the strength of his opponent. 

Then one morning our orderly came in with a dixieful of 
the whole-wheat mush which we dignified with the name of 
porridge. He had obviously something to tell us. He stood 
rubbing the instep of one foot slowly up and down the calf of 
the other leg, and regarding me whimsically. 

"What's up, Hall?" asked Pa Davem. 

Hall ran his fingers reflectively through his hair. 

"I dunno, Sir," he said, "but it looks as if our show's 
gettin' left. The 'Orsepital 'Ouse Spook's been and gone off 
the water waggon, I reckon." 

"How?" I asked. A fear seized me that my rival had been 
found out. That would mean my downfall, too. 

"Breakin' windows and such," Hall said; "reg'lar Mafficking 
night they 'ad last night. Put the wind up them all 
proper." 

"Poltergeistism! " I ejaculated. 

"Beg pardon. Sir," said Hall, "that's a new one. I didn't 
set out for to upset you." 

"He's not swearing, for once, Hall," said Pa Davem. "Tell 
us about it." 

We learned that the night before there had been a seance 



46 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

in the Hospital House. A new spook had appeared, calling 
herself "Millicent the Innocent." Asked what she was "in- 
nocent" of — a perfectly natural question in view of the name 
- — she grew exceedingly angry and threatened to show her 
power. Some daring member of the audience challenged her 
to "carry on," and immediately a window-pane was smashed 
inwards, from the outside, a washstand holding a basin full of 
water was upset, and a large wooden chandelier crashed down 
from its hook on the wall. The room was well lit at the time. 
It was a good twenty feet above ground level, the guards had 
completed their evening round, and all prisoners were locked 
inside the house. Nobody was within a dozen feet of any of 
the objects affected. 

After breakfast I went down to the Hospital House and in- 
terviewed Mundey and Edmonds. They were elated and 
not a little excited by the adventures of the night before. They 
showed me the record of the seance, and sent me to examine 
the broken pane. 

I saw it could have been broken with a stick from the win- 
dow of a neighbouring room — a dark little closet at the head 
of the stairs. I went there. The window was nailed up and 
covered with cobwebs. Perfect 1 But in the grime on a little 
ledge below the window was the fresh imprint of a foot. I took 
my embassy cap and dusted it over. It was clear my rival had 
a confederate. Except for that little slip over the footprint 
his work had been very thorough, and I wondered who it 
could be. In those days I knew Hill only by sight, or I might 
have guessed. 

The camp buzzed with the discussion of the new phenome- 
non. Compared with this exhibition of the power of the 
Unseen over material things, the rational movements of the 
glass had become a very minor problem. I hoped it might 
be forgotten altogether, or accepted much as we laymen ac- 
cept the beating of our hearts — as the necessary but inexpli- 
cable condition for the continued existence of human life. But 
Alec Matthews was a persistent and uncomfortably thorough 
person. He came up to me one morning as I sat sunning my- 
self against the south wall. I saw from his eye there was 
something in the wind. 

"Morning, Bones. I wanted to see you. Little and I and 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 47 

a few more have been talking over those last seances. Would 
you object very much to one more test?" 

"I thought you were all satisfied," I said. "Tests are a 
nuisance. I don't want to waste more time over them." 

"Doc. said the same," said Alec. "But he has agreed, if 
you are willing. I'm pretty well satisfied myself already, but 
if we come through this, it will clinch it." 

"What's the test?" I asked. 

"We'd rather not tell you," said Alec, "and we haven't told 
Doc. either." 

"Right-o," I replied. "Let's go and join the Majors. They're 
watching the ducks in the lane." 

Matthews declined the proffered entertainment. Instead, he 
went off to Little "to get things ready" for the test. I spent 
an unhappy day wondering what, on earth the test could be 
that required so much preparation. In the evening a rather 
larger number than usual gathered round the spook-board. 
Doc. and I sat down in our usual places. 

"Do you want us blindfolded?" I asked, tendering a hand- 
kerchief. 

"Not at all," said Alec. "I don't beheve sight comes into 
it, anyway. Even if it did, it would not be of any use to- 
night." 

"It might be more satisfactory, though it is beastly un- 
comfortable," I suggested. 

One of the audience then blindfolded me, but it was care- 
lessly done, and I could still see the ground at my feet and 
the nearest edge of the spook-board. 

"Are you ready?" Alec asked of the spook-board. 

"Yes," came the answer. 

"This is a test," Matthews explained. "We want to find 
out what directs the glass to the letters. Previous tests indi- 
cate it is not done by the mediums" — (I breathed more freely 
after that, old chap) — "but it may be caused by one of the 
spectators unconsciously exercising a sort of hypnotic influence 
over the mediums — in short by Telepathy. I have prepared a 
new circle of letters, in triplicate. The original is here, in this 
room, and will be produced shortly. The duplicate and tripli- 
cate are in Little's room. The triplicate is smaller in size and 
so constructed as to revolve inside the duplicate. It will be 



48 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

set running by Boyes and Little, who will leave their room 
before it stops and guard the door. I want to see if the glass 
can write on the original circle in the code formed by the re- 
volving circle with the duplicate. If it can, it proves that the 
movement is not controlled, consciously or unconsciously, by 
any human agency, for nobody knows the code, as there will 
be nobody in the room when the revolving circle stops." 

Doc. and I put our fingers back on the glass. 

"Ha! ha! ha!" It wrote at once. 

"You're laughing," said Price. "Can you do it?" 

"Easy," said the Spook. 

The new circle of letters prepared by Matthews was sub- 
stituted for the one I knew so well, and word was sent to 
Little and Boyes to start the code wheel spinning. 

"Can you write on this new arrangement of the letters?" 
Matthews asked. 

The glass began to revolve slowly round and round the 
board. 

"It is examining the letters," said somebody. 

"Yes," came the answer from the board. "Ask some- 
thing." 

"Good enough," said Matthews. "Now write in code. 
Tell us who you are in code." 

There was a long pause. 

"The glass feels quite dead, as if there's nothing here," 
said the Doc. at last. 

"I expect it has gone next door to examine the code," 
said somebody, with a laugh that sounded a trifle forced. 

"B-M-X," the glass wrote. 

"Is that who you are?" 

"B-M-X," said the glass again. 

"Is that your name? It seems very short." 

"B-M-X," again. 

"Are you writing code?" 

There was another long pause. 

"My bandage is slipping," said I. "Tie it up, someone." 

"Oh, never mind your bandage," said Alec. "Take it off, 
it can make no difference." 

I took it off, and lit a cigarette with my right hand still on 
the glass. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 49 

"That's good," I said. "You can't taste smoke with your 
eyes shut." 

''You've been thinking about smoking instead of keeping 
your mind blank I" said the Doc. "That's why it stopped. 
It'll go now, under normal conditions." 

"Are you writing code?" Alec repeated. 

"B-M-X— B-M-X— B-M-X." 

"That may be the code for 'yes,' " said Price. "Go and 
see, Little." 

Little went out to examine the code. While he was away 
the glass kept up a monotonous B-M-X, B-M-X. 

Little came back. "Can't make it out," he said; "it's not 
code for 'yes.' B-M-X is V " 

"Don't tell us what it is," Alec interrupted. "Come on, 
what's your name?" 

Before he got the question out the glass was writing again. 
A steady string of some thirty to forty unintelligible letters. 
"F-G-F-K-V-H-M-D-0-H-O-M-X-O-F-T-T-O-M-U-D-A-N-M- 
F-G-U-F-N-V-C-F-K-M-T-M-F-N." 

"Can you repeat all that?" Price asked. 

The glass repeated it a second and a third time without 
variation. 

"Looks as if we are getting something," said Alec. "Now 
please give us a message." 

The glass replied at considerable length, and again repeated 
the reply three times over. Thus it went on for the best part 
of an hour, answering questions in code, and repeating each 
answer three times. 

"I think we've got enough to go on with," said Price, "and 
anyway, whatever this stuff may be, whether it makes sense or 
not, we're up against one thing, and that is, how the deuce 
can these long rigmaroles of letters be repeated with such ac- 
curacy?" 

While Little and Boyes adjourned with the record to see 
if they could be deciphered, the company discussed the eve- 
ning's performance. 

"Whatever Little's verdict may be," said the Doc., ""the 
sceptics who think I am doing this have had a bit of a jar to- 
night." 

"How so?" I asked innocently. 



so THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

The Doc. tapped the spook-board with a grimy forefinger. 

"This is a new arrangement of the letters," he said, "which 
Tvas sprung on me to-night." 

"Well, what about it?" I asked. 

The Doc. leant across the board and glared at me, "What 
about it? Why, ye cormorant! Who but you accused me the 
other night of rememberin' the letters, an' how can I remem- 
ber them when I've never seen them before? Yet the thing 
wrote sense! It said, 'Yes, ask something,' in plain Sassenach!" 

I looked at the board critically. 

"That* cock won't fight, Doc," I said. "So far as I can 
see, this circle looks like a copy of the old one. I remember 
that combination N-I-F next each other." 

"It's not quite the same," said Alec. "I've changed a few 
of the letters." He produced the old board and put it along- 
side the new one. "You see the T and the W have changed 
places, and so have the B and the M. And both the T and the 
M come into the Spook's answer to Ask something.' " 

"Yes," said the Doc, "and here's another change — the V 
and the D." 

"I didn't change that," said Alec quickly. 

"But ye did," persisted the Doctor. "The old one reads 
from left to right, S D V, and the new one S V D." 

"So it does," said Alec; "that was an accidental change." 

"Dash it!" said I. "I never spotted that, either." 

I don't know why my remark escaped notice, but it did. 
Somebody suggested we should go on spooking, and I put my 
fingers on the glass again with a feeling of thankfulness. The 
glass began to move. 

"I know who this is," the Doc. said, without opening his 
eyes. "It's Silas P. Warner." 

"Quite right," said Price, eyeing Doc. with a growing sus- 
picion. "How did you know before I read it out?" 

"Why, of all unbelievers," said Doc. the Innocent, looking 
at Price in astonishment: "of all the unbelievers! Faith! 
D'ye think I'm a lump of wood, or what? D'ye think I've sat 
here night after night and hour after hour, fingerin' this blessed 
glass, an' don't know the difference in feel between one Spook 
and another?" 

This was new to me — the "difference in feel" was quite 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 51 

unconsciously caused on my part — ^but it was up to me to 
support the Doc. 

"I've noticed that myself," I said. "Every one of them 
writes a different way." 

"Of course, what they say is always characteristic," said 
Price. "I admit that! But here is Doc. recognizing them 
not from what they say, but from the way they say it — from 
the way the glass moves." 

"An' why not?" said the Doc. "Silas has one way of writ- 
ting — he's energetic and slap-bang. An' Sally has another — 
she's world- wise and knowing. But Dorothy! Dorothy that's 
always gentle and sweet! She is the one / like!" 

We were all still laughing and teasing the Doc. when Little 
came back. 

"No good," he said, "the stuff won't make sense. I've been 
right through it." 

"Then we've got to explain how It remembered and man- 
aged to repeat all that rigmarole," said Price. 

"Let's ask Silas," Alec suggested, and Doc. and I put our 
fingers on the glass again. 

Then Boyes burst into the room, waving a sheet of paper. 
"It's all right," he gasped breathlessly. "The blessed thing 
has been coding our code! It's been writing one letter to the 
left all the way through, and makes perfect sense. Listen." 
He began reading out the decoded sentences. I looked across 
at Doc. He was grinning at me — a most aggressive grin! I 
leant back in my chair and poured myself out a tot of Raid 
from Alec's bottle. 

"I feel I deserve this," I said, raising my mug. 

"Bones, ye thief of the world!" said Doc. "Pass that 
bottle! Ye had no more to do with it than the rest of us." 

"That he had not," said Alec. "Circulate the poison! 
Mugs up, you fellows. The thing's proved, so here's to the 
Spook that Doc. says feels the nicest." 

"Dorothy," we said, in chorus. 



CHAPTER IV 

OF THE EPISODE OF LOUISE, AND HOW IT WAS ALL DONE 

THOSE who Still remained sceptical were completely 
puzzled. Our success was due, of course, to the 
cause which makes all spooking mysterious — inac- 
curate and incomplete observation. In the first place, 
Alec Matthews had been guilty of a bad slip. He was certain 
that he had kept the board in his possession and that the 
mediums could not have seen it. He forgot he had come into 
Gatherer's room before the seance, to ask some question about 
a hockey match, and had carried the new board in his hand. 
I was sitting in the corner. He stayed in the room, standing 
near the door, for perhaps fifteen seconds — just enough for me 
to run my eye round the board. After Alec left Gatherer twit- 
ted me on being very silent, and asked if I was "homesick." I 
was memorizing the new position of the letters. 

In the next place, at the seance I was carelessly bandaged. 
I could see the edge of the board next me, and from that calcu- 
lated the position of the other letters, so that the fact that the 
glass could at once write 'Yes, ask something,' was not so 
wonderful after all. 

In the third place. Little himself gave away the key to the 
code when he tried to tell us what B-M-X stood for. Every- 
body remembered that Alec had stopped him from saying what 
it was, but nobody seemed to notice he had begun to tell us 
and had given away the important fact that B stood for V. 
The knowledge of the position of one letter gave me a clue for 
reconstructing the whole board. Finally, the recoding by the 
Spook (by going one letter to the left all the way round) was 
due to an accident. I had not noticed that V and D had 
changed places, and that the new board read V-D instead of 
D-V. V was the key letter given away by Little, and as I saw 

52 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 53 

it in my mind's eye one place too far to the left, the rest 
followed automatically/ 

This was the last attempt at an organized test. The in- 
vestigators were satisfied. The foundations of Belief had been 
laid. The rest was absurdly easy — merely a matter of con- 
solidating the position. It was extremely interesting from 
a psychological point of view to notice how the basic idea that 
they were conversing with some unknown force seemed to 
throw men off their balance. Time and again the "Spook," 
under one name or another, pumped the sitter without the 
latter's knowledge. It was amazing how many men gave them- 
selves away, and themselves told the story in their questions, 
which they afterwards thought the Spook had told in his 
answers. I could quote many instances, but let one suffice. 
As it concerns a lady, I shall depart from my rule, and call 
the ofiicer concerned "Antony," which is neither his true name 
nor his nickname. 

One night we had been spooking for some time. There 
was the usual little throng of spectators round the board, who 
came and went as the humour seized them. Our War-news 
Spook had occupied the stage for the early part of the eve- 
ning, and had just annoimced his departure. We asked him 
to send someone else.^ 

"Who are you?" said Alec. As he spoke the door opened 
and "Antony" came in, and stood close to my side. 

"I am Louise," the board spelt out. 

I felt Antony give a little start as he read the message. 
Without a pause the Spook went on: 

"Hello, Tony!" 

"This is interesting," said Tony. (That was give-away 
No. 2.) "Go on, please. Tell us something." 

I now knew that somewhere Tony must have met a Louise. 
That was a French name. So far as I know he had not 
served in France. But he had served in Egypt. One night, 
a month or so before, in talking of Egyptian scenery, he had 
mentioned a long straight road with an avenue of trees on 

* See Appendix XL 

*The seance that follows is incidentally an example of a con- 
versation with a person still alive, or, in the technical language of 
,the seance room, "still on this side." 



34 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

feither side that "looked spiffing by moonlight," and ran for 
miles across the desert. It had struck me at the time that 
there was nothing particularly "spiffing" about the type of 
scenery described; nothing, at any rate, to rouse the enthusi- 
asm he had shown, and his roseate memory of it might have 
been tinged by pleasant companionship. Remembering this, 
I ventured to say more about Louise. Nothing could be lost 
by risking it. 

"You remember me, Tony?" asked the Spook. 

"I know two Louises," said Tony cautiously. 

"Ah! not the old one, mon vieux" said the Spook. 

(New this looks as if the Spook knew both, but a little 
reflection shows that, given two Louises, one was quite prob- 
ably older than the other.) 

"Antony" was delighted. 

"Go on," he said. "Say something." 

"Long straight road," said the Spook; "trees — moon-light." 

"Where was that?" asked Tony. There was a sharpness 
about his questioning that showed he was hooked. 

"FoM know, Tony!" 

"France?" 

"No, no, stupid! Not France! Ah, you have not forgotten, 
mon cher, riding in moonlight, trees and sand, and a straight 
road — and you and me and the moon." 

"This is most interesting," said Antony. Then to the board: 
"Yes, I know, Egypt — Cairo." 

"Bravo! You know me. Why did you leave me? I am in 
trouble." 

This was cunning of the Spook. Tony must have left her, 
because he had come to Yozgad without her. But Tony did 
not notice. He was too interested, and his memory carried 
him back to another parting. 

"You told me to go," said Tony. "I wanted to help" — ■ 
;which showed he hadn't! 

"But you didn't — ^you didn't — ^you didn't!" said the Spook. 

Tony ran his hand through his hair. "This is quite right 
ias far as it goes," he said, "but I want to ask a few questions 
to make sure. May I?" 

"Certainly," said Doc. and I. 

He turned to the board (it was always amusing to me to 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 55 

notice how men had to have something material to question, 
and how they never turned to the Doc. or me, but always to 
the board. Hence, I suppose, the necessity for "idols" in 
the old days). 

"Have you gone ba " He checked himself and rubbed 

his chin. "No," he went on, "I won't ask that — Where are 
you now?" 

He had already, without knowing it, answered his own ques- 
tion, but he must be given time to forget it. 

"Ah, Tony," said Louise, "you were sl dear! I did love so 
your hair." 

This was camouflage, but it pleased Tony. 

"Where are you now?" Tony repeated, thinking, no doubt, 
of soft hands on his hair. 

"Why did you not help me?" said Louise. 

"Look here, I want to make sure who you are. Where are 
you now?" 

"Are you an unbeliever, Tony? C'est moi, Louise, qui te 
parte/" 

"Then tell me where you are," Tony persisted. 

"Oh, dear, Tony, I told you I was going back. I went back! " 

"By Jove!" said Tony, "that settles it. Back to Paris?" 

"I wish you were here," sighed poor Louise. "The Ameri- 
can is not nice — not nice as you, Tony." 

"American?" Tony muttered. "Oh, yes. I say, what's your 
address?" 

The movement of the glass changed from a smooth glide 
to the "slap-bang" style abhorred by all of us. 

"Look here, young feller! You get off the pavement. I 
don't want you butting round here!" said the glass. "I'm 
Silas P. Warner " 

"Go away, Silas!" "Blast you, Silas!" "Get out of this!" 
"We don't want to talk to you, we want Louise!" An angry 
chorus rose from Matthews, Price, and the rest of the inter- 
ested spectators. Silas had a nasty habit of butting in where 
he was not wanted — always at crucial and exciting points — 
and was unpopular. 

But Silas would not go. He asserted Louise was in his 
charge. He would not tolerate these conversations with doubt- 
ful characters. Tony could go to hell for all he cared. He 



56 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

didn't care two whoops if it was a scientific experiment — and 
so forth, and so on. 

"One more question," pleaded poor Tony, "and if she gets 
this right I must believe. How does she pronounce the French 
word for 'yes'?" 

This question, if genuine, again gave a clue to the answer. 
For it showed she did not pronounce it in the ordinary way. 
And I felt pretty certain the question was genuine. When a 
sitter is setting a trap his voice usually betrays him. It is 
either toneless, or the sham excitement in it is exaggerated. 
Tony's voice was just right. So I decided quickly not to fence, 
but to risk an answer. The most probable change would be 
a V for the W sound, or the W sound would be entirely omitted. 
There was therefore a choice of three sounds, "Ee," "Vee," and 
"Evee." The problem was to give the questioner, without his 
realizing it, a choice of all three sounds in one answer — he 
would be sure to choose the one he was expecting. 

The glass wrote "E" and paused. Tony beside me was 
breathing heavily. I gave him plenty of time to say "That's 
right," but as he didn't the glass went on — 

"V-E-E." He could now choose between Vee and Evee. 

"Evee!" said Tony. "That's it exactly! Ye gods, she 
always said it that funny way — evee, evee!" He began to 
talk excitedly. 

After the seance, Tony took me apart and declared he had 
never seen anything so wonderful in his life. He told me 
the whole story of Louise. How they rode together along 
the long straight road near Cairo; how it was full moon, and 
there was an avenue of lebbak trees through which the silver 
light filtered down ;. and how at the end of the ride they parted. 
I don't think anybody else was privileged to hear the whole 
story, but next day he told everybody interested that as soon 
as he came into the room the blessed glass said "Hello, Tony! 
I'm Louise." If the reader will turn back a page or two he 
will see this is another instance of bad observation. The 
Spook said, "I'm Louise," at which "Antony" started; and 
only then did the Spook say, "Hello, Tony!" The startled 
movement which provided the link was forgotten, and the 
simple inversion of Tony's memory — putting "Hello, Tony!" 
before "I'm Louise," instead of after it — made it impossible 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR sf 

for the outsider to discover the fraud. With the lapse of a 
little time, his memory played him further tricks. A month 
later he was convinced the Spook had told him the whole 
story straight off, with all the details he gave me afterwards 
in his room. This was all very helpful, from one who had been 
a strenuous unbeliever. And a poor, over-worked medium saw 
no reason to correct him. 

Eighteen months later I sat, a free man, in Ramleh Casino at 
Alexandria. Opposite me, at the other side of the small 
round table, was one of the Yozgad converts to spiritualism. 
I had just told him all our work had been fraudulent, and had 
quoted the Tony-Louise story to show how it was done. 

The Convert thought a moment. 

"Granted that Tony, by his start, provided the link between 
*Louise' and himself," he said, "there is still one thing to 
explain." 

"What is that?" 

"What made you connect the long straight road, and the 
trees, and the moonlight, with 'Louise'?" 

"Well," I said, "that, of course, was a mere shot in the 
dark — a guess." 

The Convert smiled pityingly at me. 

"You call it guessing. Do you know what I think it was?" 

"No," said I. 

"Unconscious telepathy — ^you were influenced by 'Antony's' 
thoughts." 

Is there any way of converting believers? What is a man 
to say? 

Spiritualists have divided the statements of spooks into 
"evidential" matter and "non-evidential" matter. Evidential 
matter is that which is capable of proof in the light of knowl- 
edge acquired by the sitters (or their friends) either prior to 
or subsequent to the seance. In every case its basic hypothesis 
is ignorance on the part of the medium. Provided the medium 
has no apparent means of knowing a thing, or no apparent 
grounds for formulating a guess, he or she is presumed to 
be ignorant. Thus, in Sir Oliver Lodge's book, "Raymond," 
the evidential value of the photograph incident rests on the 
adequacy of the proof that the medium had no knowledge 



58 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

of the photograph described. My own experiences as a 
medium incline me to the belief that whereas it may be possi- 
ble to prove that a given person has had no given opportunity 
of acquiring a given piece of knowledge, it is never possible to 
prove that he has not had some opportunity or, in the alter- 
native, that he is not guessing. That is to say, when a state- 
ment is correct, knowledge can sometimes be proved. Igno- 
rance, or guesswork, can never be proved. In Yozgad the 
Spook described a "tank" with very fair accuracy, told of the 
fall of Kut, the capture of Baghdad, the great German offen- 
sive in North Italy, and many more things which were subse- 
quently proved to be correct. It named officers, and gave 
details of past experiences known only to themselves. A lot 
of good fellows — Peacocke, Matthews, Edmonds, Mundey, 
Price, "Tony," and many others were victimized in turn. 

Our news was of two kinds — general and personal. The 
general news dealt chiefly with the war. A little of it I ob- 
tained from home. Any "exclusive" item of news I got in my 
letters I published through the spook-board, and left it to 
Father Time and the Turkish post to bring corroboration. 
When corroboration arrived, the Spook's statement became 
evidential. But this was only a small portion of the informa- 
tion given. The rest was guesswork, and the items which 
turned out to be correct were remembered afterwards, as 
further "evidential matter." The rest was set aside as "not 
proven," and forgotten. 

The personal news was also largely guesswork. The medi- 
um's usual method was to throw out a cap and watch who 
tried it on, as in the case of Louise and Tony. He then pro- 
ceeded to try to make it fit. If he failed, no harm was done, 
for no special impression was made. The "fishing" references 
were simply not understood, and forgotten. If he succeeded, 
it was another piece of evidential matter. These were bows 
drawn at a venture. 

But we also took the gifts the gods sent. One of the most 
amusing and successful coups in the personal news branch 
was made by the repetition of a long story told in. extreme 
confidence by the sitter himself to the medium months before. 
In vino Veritas! — sometimes. Nightingale banked everything 
on its truth and on the fact that the confidential stage of 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 59 

winey-ness has a very short memory, and he won. The 
sitter — thitherto a sceptic — was afflicted with exceeding great 
alarm and despondency. He approached the two enthusiasts 
(Edmonds and Mundey), who kept the records of the seances 
for the future benefit of the Psychical Research Society, and 
got the seance wiped off the slate! Then he departed — a 
True Believer! Of course, the gift of a complete story like 
this was a rarity. But it was a common trick, both with the 
Hospital House spook and our own, to store up some trivial 
experience, the name of a person or a place, casually mentioned 
in conversation — and then spring it on its author some weeks 
or months later when a suitable opportunity occurred. The 
medium simply waited for the victim to enter the room and 
then the glass wrote: "Hello, Tom (or Dick or Harry), Here 
you are. I haven't seen you since we met at the Galle Face," 
or the Swanee River, or whatever place Tom happened to have 
mentioned. Whereupon, for a sovereign, the surprised Tom 
would ejaculate: "Heavens above! That must be old Jack 
Smith!" The Spook then saved up old Jack Smith for a 
future use. And so the story grew. Next time it would be: 
"Hello, Tom. I'm Jack Smith. Remember the Galle Face, 
old chap?" 

The "non-evidential" matter also turned out a howling 
success. We got in some very fancy work in our descriptions 
of "spheres." Nearly a year later (1918) Sir Oliver Lodge's 
book "Raymond" reached the camp, and in it was found cor- 
roboration for many of our flights of imagination. It was 
known that none of us had been "spookists'^ before. So in 
a sense, and for our camp, even the non-evidential matter 
became evidential. The resemblances between the utterances 
of our spooks and the trivialities in "Raymond" were so mani- 
fest that the genuineness of our performances was considered 
proved. Who said two blacks never make a white? Indeed, 
we were considered to have advanced human knowledge further 
than Lodge. For not only had we got into touch with the 4th, 
5th, 6th, and nth. spheres, but also with one unknown to other 
spiritualists — the minus one sphere, where dwell the souls of 
the future generations who have not yet entered this Vale of 
Tears. There were plenty of "literary" men in the camp. 
Nobody recognized MaeterUnck's "Blue Bird" in a new setting! 



6o THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

In building up the reputation of our spooks there was one 
type of seance we did not encourage. We threw aside the 
strongest weapon in the medium's armoury. The emotional 
fog which blinds the critical faculty of the sitter is most 
valuable to the medium, and is quite easy to create. A "Dar- 
ling Boy" from a dead Mother, or a "My son" from a dead 
Father does it. But there were limits to which we could 
not go. We created our fog, and built up our Spook's reputa- 
tion without the introduction of what are called "harrowing 
spiritual experiences." Our spooks were all impersonal to 
the audience (Sally, Silas P. Warner, Beth, George, Millicent, 
and so on) ; nobody's dear dead was allowed to appear on 
the scene. Louise was no exception; she was still alive, and 
"on this side." The rule was only once broken, so far as I am 
aware, and then only partially so. Under extreme pressure a 
private seance was granted to a most persistent sitter. He 
wanted his father to speak to him. One of our usual spooks 
appeared. But we never reached the stage of direct com- 
munication. The emotional strain on all concerned was so 
obvious that I cut short the seance. Nor was it ever re- 
peated. Indeed, to the best of my recollection it was the last 
seance conducted by me in the camp. It showed me one 
thing clearly — given the necessary emotional strain, the sitter 
is completely at the mercy of the medium. 

I know well that conversations with the dear dead are the 
every-day stock-in-trade of the average medium. It makes 
mediumship so much easier. Besides, for all I know, the 
medium may be genuine. And far be it from me to decry the 
efforts of eminent scientists to forge their links with the world 
beyond by any means they choose. They want to "break 
through the partition." In their effort they have perhaps 
every right to circularize the widows and mothers of thosa 
whose names adorn the Roll of Honour. To the scientist, g 
widow or a mother is only a unit for the purpose of experiment 
and percentage. To the professional medium she represents 
so much bread and butter. Assuredly these bereaved ladies 
should be invited to attempt to communicate with their dead 
husbands and their dead sons! The more the merrier, and 
there is no time like the present. We have a million souls just 
"gone over" in the full flush of manhood. The fodder of last 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 6i 

year's cannon is splendid manure for the psychic harvests of 
the years to come. Carry on! Spread the glad tidings 1 
Our glorious dead are all waiting to move tables and push 
glasses, and scrawl with planchettes, and speak through trum- 
pets, and throw mediums into ugly trances — at a guinea a 
time. There they are, "on the other side," long ranks of 
them, fresh from the supreme sacrifice. They are waiting to 
do these things for us before they "go on" further, into the 
utter unknown. Hurry up! Walk up, ye widows, a guinea 
is little to pay for a last word from your dead husbands; 
many of you would give your immortal souls for it! Walk 
up, before it is too late. You may find, to begin with, 
they are "sl little confused by the passing over," a "little 
unskilled" at the handling of these uncouth instruments of 
expression — the table, the glass, the trance. But be patient. 
They only need practice and will improve with time. Go 
often enough to the mediums, preferably to the same medium, 
and your dead will learn to communicate. And, above all, 
"have faith." It is the faithful believer who gets the most 
gratifying results. 

Ah, yes. We know that "faithful believer." He is apt to 
be stirred by his emotions, and a little careless in the framing 
of his questions, 

I have seen men die from bullets, and shell, and poison; 
from starvation, from thirst, from exhaustion, and from many 
diseases. God knows, I have feared Death. Yet Death has 
ever had for me one strong consolation — it brings the "peace 
that passeth all understanding." Like me, perhaps, you have 
watched it come to your friends and lay its quiet fingers on 
their grey faces. You have seen the relaxation from suffering, 
the gentle passing away and then the ineffable Peace. And is 
my Peace, when it comes, to be marred by this task of shifting 
tables, and chairs, and glasses, Sir Oliver? Am I to be at the 
beck and call of some hysterical, guinea-grabbing medium — a 
sort of telephone boy in Heaven or Hell? I hope not, Sir. I 
trust there is nobler work beyond the bar for us poor mortals. 

Be that as it may, ours at Yozgad was a comparatively 
healthy spiritualism, conducted by a collection of spooks who 
did not encourage snivelling sentimentalism, even under the 



52 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

guise of scientific investigation. With the exception of a 
monotonous melancholic, who butted in at regular intervals 
to inform us plantively that he was "buried alive," the spooks 
were a decidedly jovial lot. They kept us in touch with the 
outside world. We walked with them down Piccadilly, dined 
with them in the Troc, and tried to hear with them the 
music of the band. We conversed with Shackleton on his 
South Polar expedition, with men in the trenches in France, 
and with ships on the wide seas. From Cabinet Meetings to 
the good-night chat between "Beth Greig" and her girl friend, 
nothing -was hidden from us. There was no place to which we 
could not go, nothing we could not see with the Spook's eyes, 
or hear with his ears. A successful night at the spook-board 
was the nearest we could get, outside our dreams, to a breath 
of freedom. We forgot our captivity, our wretchedness, our 
anxieties, and lived joyously in the fourth dimension. And it 
was better than novels — streets ahead of novels — for it might 
be true. 



CHAPTER V 

IN WHICH THE READER IS INTRODUCED TO THE PIMPLE 

PIMPLE' wants to see you, Bones," said Freeland, one 
afternoon in April. 
"What on earth does he want with me?" I asked. I 
had never yet had any truck with the five-foot-nothing 
of impertinence that called itself the Camp Interpreter. 

"Don't know, I'm sure. He's waiting for you in the lane." 

I went down. Moise, the Turkish Interpreter, was stand- 
ing at our camp notice-board, surrounded by the usual little 
crowd of prisoners trying to pump him on the progress of the 
war. His hands were plunged deep in the pockets of a pair 
of nondescript riding-breeches. At intervals he took them 
out to readjust the pince-nez before his short-sighted eyes, and 
then plunged them back again. His calves were encased in un- 
cleaned black, leather gaiters. His sadly worn boots gave 
one the impression of having previously belonged to someone 
else. His grey-blue uniform coat had Austrian buttons on it, 
and his head-gear was a second-hand caricature of the Enver 
cap. Yet he stood there with all the assurance of a bantam 
cock on his own dung heap, and crowed in the faces of his 
betters. He was part of the bitterness of captivity. 

''Good afternoon, Jones," he said familiarly, as I came up. 
He had never greeted me before — he kept his salutations for 
very senior officers. 

"What do you want?" I asked. 

He led me a little to one side, away from the crowd. 

"You are a student of spiritism?" he said, eyeing me 
sharply. "The sentries have told me." 

"Well?" I ventured. 

"Have you much studied the subject?" 

"So-so," said I. 

"How much do you know about it? I, too, am interested.'* 

63 



64 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

(I wondered what was up. Was I going to be punished?) 

"The Commandant also is interested in these matters," he 
went on insinuatingly, "and many officers have written to 
England of what you are doing." 

I thought I was "for it," and fought for time. "I refer 
you to my friends for what I have done," said I. "Captain 
Freeland, for instance." 

"Can you read the future?" he asked. "I have some 
questions." 

"What?" (I breathed again.) 

"I want you to answer by occultism for me some questions. 
You will?" 

Again I needed time, but for a different reason. 

"We can't talk here," I said confidentially; "our mess has 
tea in about half an hour; come up and join us." 

"Right-o!" The familiar phrase somehow sounded ob- 
noxious on his tongue. I walked back, up the steep path, 
thinking hard. Hitherto spooking had been merely a jest, 
with a psychological flavouring to lend it interest. But now 
a serious element was being introduced. If I could do to the 
Turks what I had succeeded in doing to my fellow-prisoners, 
if I could make them believers, there was no saying what 
influence I might not be able to exert over them. It might 
even open the door to freedom. Without any clear vision of 
the future, with nothing but the vaguest hope of ultimate 
success, I made up my mind to grip this man, and to wait for 
time to show how I might use him. 

"Freak," said I, entering our room, "wash your face, 'cause 
the Timple' is coming to tea." 

Freeland stared, at me open-mouthed. Uncle Gallup pro- 
tested mildly because the announcement had caused him to 
blot his Great Literary Work. The Fat Boy woke from a 
deep sleep, and Pa dropped his pipe. 

"Well, I'm ," said everybody at once. 

"We'll have that cake you're saving up for your birthday, 
Freak," I suggested. 

"Hanged if we do," said Freeland. "The little swab pinches 
half our parcels — why should we feed him? If he comes to 
tea, I'll go and sit on the landing." 

"And I — and I — and I " chorused the other three. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 65 

"No you don't!" I said. "You'll stay here and be good. 
Because of my great modesty / am the one who will be away. 
I can't listen to my own praises. You, Freak, will tell him 
yarns about my powers as a Spookist, you will tell him that 
never before was there such a Spookist, never -" 

"But I know nothing about your beastly spooking," Free- 
land objected. 

"Oh yes, you do! You know how I learnt the occult secrets 
of the Head-hunting Waa Tribe, and " 

"The WHO?" Freeland interrupted. 

"The Head-hunting Waas in Burma," I repeated. "I got 
this scar on my forehead from them, you know, when they 
were trying to scalp me." 

"You old liar!" said Pa. "I know how you got that 
scar. It was on the Siamese side in '09 " 

"Shut up. Pa!" I said. "I'm only asking Freak to prepare 
the ground. I want to make another convert, and once we've 
got the blighter on the string I'll make him dance all right." 

"I'm sure it's all beyond me," said Uncle Gallup plaintively; 
"I'm all mixed up between you and the Spook, anyway." 

Freeland was looking at me strangely. ^'Yoi/ll make him 
dance, will you?" he said. 

"I mean, of course," I corrected myself hastily, "the Spook 
will make him dance." 

"How d'you know what the Spook will do?" asked Freeland. 
There was a confoundedly knowing twinkle in his eye. 

I was cornered. "I'm only guessing," I said lamely. "I — 
I " 

"Right-o!" said Freeland, laughing. "I'll stuff him up for 
you. You leave it to me." 

In that moment, I am convinced, Freeland more than sus- 
pected it was all a fraud. Like the good sport he was, he 
covered my confusion from the others, and never, either then 
or afterwards, pressed his advantage. We talked hurriedly 
over what he was to say to the Interpreter, and I left the 
room. 

An hour and a half later, from my hiding-place in Stace's 
room, I watched the Interpreter depart. Then I returned to 
our Mess. There was a litter of tea-cups all over the place. 
I poured myself out a cup of cold tea. 



66 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"Oh, you've had the cake," I said, pointing to some de- 
lectable-looking crumbs on a plate; "where's my bit?" 

"Yok," ^ said Freeland, with ill-concealed glee. 

"Come on, you blighters, fork it out," I pleaded. It was 
a recognized rule of the mess that all parcel dainties (Heaven 
knows they were few enough!) were scrupulously shared. An 
absentee's portion was always put aside for him. 

"Yessack," ^ said Freeland, laughing. "We told the In- 
terpreter you never eat anything rich before a seance, so he 
took it. Besides, you told me to stuff him up— — " 

When the necessary posh had subsided, Freeland let me 
know what yarn he had told Moise. It appeared that some 
years ago I had been taken prisoner by the Head-hunters. 
They tortured me — my body bore scars in witness of it — but 
I was saved from death by the Witch Doctor, who recognized 
in me a brother craftsman. In exchange for my knowledge he 
taught me his. Then he died, and I became Chief of the 
Tribe by reason of my magic powers. In due course I left 
the Waas and returned to civilization with my pockets full 
of Burmese rubies, and my head full of the Magic of the East. 

"You piled it on a bit thick, Freak," said I. 

"Oh, I went further than that," he laughed. "I told him 
Townshend used to employ you to read the minds of the 
Turkish generals, which explains why none of the Turkish 
attacks on Kut came off!" 

"Well, that's torn it all right!" I exclaimed. 

"Not a bit of it. It all went down — same as the cake. See 
here " 

He handed me a sheet of paper on which Moise had written 
a list of questions., 

"He wants these submitted to the Spirit at the next seance." 

I ran my eye down the page. No names were mentioned, 
but it was possible to read between the lines. There were some 
civilian ladies interned in another part of Yozgad. 

"Why," I said in astonishment, "the fellow's given himself 
away! He is using his official position as jailor to pay court to 
those unhappy girls!" 

"Yes," said Freeland, and there was a deep anger in his 

* Yok is the Turkish equivalent of "Na-poo" in Tommy's French. 
'* Yessack: Forbidden. 




CLh 



J 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 671 

voice. "Yes. He's got to be made to sit up. Can you 
manage it, Bones?" 

My back was turned towards the other occupants of the 
room. I looked into Freak's eyes, and winked. 



At the next seance I produced the Pimple's written questions 
for the inspection of Price, Matthews, and the Doc. Then I 
showed them answers prepared by Freeland and myself at 
the expenditure of much time and thought. 

'T propose," said I, "to send these as if they came from 
the Spook. It is no good wasting the Spook's time over the 
Pimple; but you fellows will have to say, if asked, that we 
got this stuff at a seance." 

"The answers are pretty good," said Alec, "and they hit 
him about as hard as he deserves, but they are not exactly 
characteristic of the Spook." 

"They won't do at all, at all," said the Doc. "He will 
know at once it is your work. Anybody with half an eye could 
spot your style. Bones." 

"Why not try the Spook and see," Price suggested. "If 
the answers we get are not suitable, we can send this forgery." 

"But what's the use of wasting time?" I objected; "the 
thing's done already, and " 

"Ach! Come on. Bones!" The Doc. put his fingers on 
the glass. "Let's get the genuine article. It'll be as different 
as chalk from cheese." 

Freeland and I had spent a whole afternoon concocting the 
replies. It was most annoying that they should thus be con- 
signed to the scrap-heap. I was also doubtful if I could 
manufacture a fresh series at such short notice, but I put my 
fingers on the glass and somehow the answers came and elicited 
general approval. 

"There you are," said Price at the end of the seance, putting 
the record before me. "Read that, my son!" 

"The Spook's the boy," laughed the Doc. "If the Pimple 
has got any epidermis left to his feelings when he has read 
through those answers, you can call me a Dago. It'll frighten 
the little cad out of his seven senses. Look at question eight, 
will yel 'What will my friends think?' Bones gives a wishy- 
washy, non-committal answer, and says, 'Your friends won't 



68 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

know.' Spook says, 'You have no friends.' That's the stuff 
to keep him awake o' nights. I'm all in favour of leaving it to 
the Spook every time; there's not a man of us can come 
within shoutin' distance of him." 

"Yes, it's a good job we left it to the Spook," said Alec; 
"he gets there every time, right on the solar plexus — a regular 
knock-out." 

It has always been the same. Far-away birds have fine 
plumage. A prophet's meed of honour varies directly as the 
square of the distance. Still, every man wants to consider 
himself an exception to the rule. To me it was at first a 
little disappointing to be one more example of its application 
and to find the utterings of an unknown spook so much 
preferable to my own. 

However, the answers created a deep impression on Moise 
the Interpreter, who, at this time, was not a believer in spiritu- 
alism. He had only reached the stage of wondering if there 
might not be something in it. Moreover, he was a well-edu- 
cated man (he had spent some years in the Ecole Normale in 
Paris), and had all the natural intelligence and acumen of the 
cosmopolitan Jew. I felt I had a difficult task in front of me 
and walked warily. I pretended an absolute indifference as to 
whether he believed in the Spook or not and never suggested 
that he should come to seances. The result was that he con- 
sulted the Spook once, twice and again. Every time, without 
knowing it, he gave something away. I privately tabulated his 
questions, studied them hard, and determined above all to hold 
my own counsel until the time was ripe. 

On May 6th, 1917, an order was posted forbidding prisoners 
to communicate in' their letters to England "news obtained by 
officers in a spiritistic state." This was encouragement indeed! 
It showed that the Turks were taking official notice of my 
humble efforts. At the same time I could not believe that it 
was the Interpreter who was responsible for this new pro- 
hibition. He was by now deeply interested if not already 
a believer, and was too anxious to keep on good terms with 
the mediums to risk offending them by attacking their spiritu- 
alism. It behoved me therefore to find out who was behind it. 
I waited my opportunity and waylaid Mo'ise in the lane. 

"That's a poor trick of yours," said I, "stopping us writing 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 69 

home about spiritualism. We only want verification of what 
the Spook says. The matter is one of scientific interest. It has 
no military significance at all." 

"I say so to the Commandant," said Moise, "but he would 
not agree! He says it is dangerous." 

"Get along, Moise! The Commandant has nothing to do 
with that notice. You put it up yourself to crab our amuse- 
ments." 

Moise probed excitedly in his pockets and produced a paper 
in Turkish which he flourished under my nose. 

"There you are!" he said. "The seal! The signature! He 
wrote the order. I merely translated. I told him how great 
was the scientific value, how important is the experiment. He 
said the Spook gives war news. It is his fault, not mine." 

"Is the Commandant also a believer?" I asked. 

"Assuredly! He has much studied the occult. He often 
consults on problematic difficulties women and witches in 
this town, but mostly by cards. He greatly believes in cards." 

"Yes," I said, "there is much in cards, but it is rather an 
old-fashioned and cumbersome method. Now the Ouija " 

Jimmy Dawson rushed up to find out if the Pimple had 
any parcels for him in the office, and I seized the opportunity 
to depart. As I went I hugged myself. The Commandant 
too! 

Kiazim Bey, Bimbashi of Turkish Artillery and Command- 
ant of our camp, was the most nebulous official, in Asia. He 
did not visit us once in three months. He answered no letters, 
took not the least notice of any complaints, refused all inter- 
views, and pursued a policy of masterly inactivity which was 
the despair of our Senior Officers. He was a sort of Negative 
Kitchener — the very antithesis of organizing power — but he 
had the same genius for silence. Endowed with a native dig- 
nity and coolness which contrasted favourably with our help- 
less anger at his incapacity and neglect, he was comfortable 
enough himself (thanks to the contents of our food parcels) 
to be able to view our discomforts with a philosophic calm. 
And, withal, he was more inaccessible than the Great Moghul. 
Of the man himself, of his likes and dislikes, his hopes, his 
fears, his ambitions, his most ordinary thoughts, we knew less 
than nothing. How long, I wondered, would it be before I 



70 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

could get him into the net? Would he ever consult the Ouija 
as he consulted the "women and witches" of Yozgad? Would 
the Spook be able to play with him as it played with Doc. 
and Matthews and the rest of my friends? 

The whole thing looked very impossible, but in less than a 
twelvemonth this "strong silent man" was to be clay in the 
potter's hands, and evict his pet witch to give houseroom to 
two practical jokers — Lieutenant C. W. Hill and myself. 



CHAPTER VI 

IN WHICH THE COOK APPEARS AND THE SPOOK FINDS A 
REVOLVER 

ROME was not built in a day, and I had my little sea 
of troubles to navigate before reaching the safe har- 
bour of the Witch's Den, My new-born hope of 
capturing Kiazim was barely a fortnight old when the 
spooking in our house came to a sudden end. On the 23 rd of 
May a party of 28 rank and file arrived at Yozgad, to act as 
additional orderlies to the officers in our camp. A travel-worn, 
starved, and fever-stricken little band were these "honoured 
guests of Turkey" : they had been driven, much as stolen cattle 
were driven by Border raiders in the old days, across the 
deserts from Baghdad and Sinai, herded at their journey's 
end in foul cellars and filthy mud huts, and left unclothed, 
unfed, unwarmed, to face the winter as best they might. 
Seven out of every ten Britishers who left Kut as prisoners died 
in the hands of their "hosts." The state in which these gallant 
fellows reached Yozgad roused the camp to fury, but it was a 
very helpless fury. We could do nothing. 

The immediate consequence of their arrival was the opening 
of the "Schoolhouse," or, as it was more commonly called, 
"Posh Castle." Thirteen officers moved into it, taking with 
them their quota of orderlies, and three of the thirteen were 
Price, Matthews, and Doc. O'Farrell. Their departure put an 
end to the seances in our house. After our previous exhaustive 
experiments I dared not suddenly discover somebody else en 
rapport with me. 

But in the Hospital House spooking went on cheerily all 
the summer under the auspices of Bishop and Nightingale, and 
it gave the camp much to think about. There was the episode 
of Colonel Coventry's sealed letter, which the Spook read with 

71 



72 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

the greatest ease. Mundey, as true a believer as any of my 
converts in the Upper House, assured Coventry the letter had 
never left his possession. He was perfectly honest in his as- 
surance. The courage with which he stood up for his con- 
victions moved my admiration. It was no fault of his that 
he was unconsciously up against a first-class conjuror/ and that 
he did not know the letter had been removed, steamed, read, 
copied, resealed and replaced. The episode is merely another 
instanc.e of faulty observation. It supports the argument which 
"common sense" opposes to spiritualists. Because X or Y or 
any other eminent scientist or honourable man vouches for the 
correctness of a fact, it does not follow that the fact is so. 
All X and Y can really vouch for is that it is so to the best 
of their belief. Nor does it follow that because scores of per- 
sons observed the same details as X and Y, these details are 
either complete or correct. How many members of a music- 
hall audience can see how a conjuring trick is done? For 
every one who has noticed the key move there will be a hundred 
who did not. In matters of observation the truth is not to be 
discovered by a show of hands. 

Then there was the episode of the floating bucket. In view 
of our success in instilling credulity, it may be thought that 
soldiers are for some reason peculiarly gullible. But we gulled 
others as well — farmers, lawyers, and business men. Lieu- 
tenant McGhie, for example, was a dour Scot, not a regular 
soldier, but an ordinary sensible business man, with a liking 
for donning khaki when there was the chance of a scrap, and 
taking it off again when all was quiet. He had "done his bit" ' 
in the Boer War before he went killing Turks at Oghratina. He 
could not be called- either a nervous or an imaginative man. 
He was one of many at a Hospital House seance, who saw a 
bucket "float across the room." "Nobody could have thrown 
it — it was quite impossible!" Yet Nightingale threw that 
bucket! I can only account for this and similar cases by the 
assumption that the effect of a seance — of the feeling that one 
is dealing with an unknown force — is to blind one's powers of 
observation much as the unknown motor-car makes the savage 

^The conjuror was Lieutenant C. W. Hill, R.A.F., who ultimately 
became my partner for escape and whose better acquaintance the 
reader will make later on. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 73 

bury his nose in the sand. Indeed, it does more than blind, 
it distorts. One more instance of the methods by which in- 
terest was kept alive. Upstairs in the Hospital House Mundey 
and Edmonds, who were recording for Bishop and Nightingale, 
found one evening that they could get only the first half of 
each message. Every sentence tailed off into nothingness. This 
was "discovered" to be due to the fact that downstairs Hill 
and Sutor were "blocking the line," and getting the second 
halves of the messages. We had never heard of "cross- 
correspondence." Nightingale and Hill invented it between 
them (after all, it is a natural sort of legpull), and carried it 
a step further than any professional medium I have ever read 
of. 

The man responsible for pushing the glass in the Hospital 
House seances was Nightingale. The position of his fellow- 
medium, Bishop, was exactly analogous to that of Doc. O'Far- 
rell — he was perfectly innocent of any suspicion that the whole 
affair was not genuine. The manifestations were worked by 
Hill at a given signal from Nightingale, so that they synchro- 
nized with the writing on the board. Two other people were 
*'in the know" — Percy Woodland and Taylor, and very care- 
fully they guarded the secret. This information I learned for 
certain in August of the same year, when Nightingale, Hill and 
I swopped confidences. Until my own spookclub had broken 
up, I had paid no attention to the occasional advances in search 
of truth which my rivals had made. It was amusing to learn 
that my admission of faking took a weight off their minds — 
they had felt pretty certain all along that the Upper House 
show was also a fraud, but had been puzzled by my reticence 
and were obviously relieved to learn the truth. At the time 
of our mutual confessions, Nightingale was dreadfully tired of 
being dragged out night after night by enthusiastic spook 
chasers, and was racking his brains to discover some means of 
giving it up without causing offence. As one of his converts — 
Lieutenant Paul Edmonds — had already written a book on the 
new revelations of Nighty's spook, confession had become 
rather difficult. 

"Don't confess," I said. "Let's get the Pimple well on the 
string first." 

"But how?" asked Nighty. 



74 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

None of us knew. We could only imitate Mr. Micawber 
and hope something would turn up. 

Something did turn up — it always does if you wait long 
enough. Early in September, Cochrane and Lloyd, walking 
up and down the hockey ground, noticed a leather strap stick- 
ing out of the earth. The magpie instinct was by this time 
well developed in the camp. At one time or another we had 
all been so hard up that we now made a habit of collecting 
tins, bits of string, pieces of wood, old nails, scraps of sacking 
— in short, everything and anything which might some day 
have a possible use for some project yet unborn. The sum 
total, hidden under your mattress, was technically known as 
"cag." A leather strap, with a buckle, was "valuable cag." 
So Cochrane and Lloyd tugged at it. It came up — with a re- 
volver and holster attached! They smuggled their find to bed 
under the nose of the unobservant sentry. We talked of the 
discovery in whispers, and wondered what had happened to 
the unfortunate Armenian who had buried it. 

A few days later the Pimple buttonholed me. 

'T want to ask something," he said. "I go to Captain 
Mundey, and he tells me to ask you." 

''What is it, Moise?" 

The little man glanced furtively up and down the lane, to 
make sure no one was within earshot, and lowered his voice to 
a confidential whisper. 

"Can the Spirit find a buried treasure?" 

"That depends," said I. 

"On what?" 

"On who buried it, and who wants it, and whether the man 
who buried it is still alive; or, if he is dead, on whether he 
can communicate, or is willing to communicate. The difficulty 
varies with the circumstances." 

"I see," said the Pimple. (This was very satisfactory, for 
I was hanged if I myself saw!) 

"You want me to find this Armenian treasure?" I went on, 
risking the "Armenian." 

"You know about it?" the Pimple asked in surprise. "How 
did you know? Did the Spook tell you?" 

"I have had several communications," I said guardedly. 
"You've been concentrating on the wrong places." 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 75 

(I did not know whether Moise had been digging or merely 
thinking about digging. "Concentrating" covered both.) 

"We tried the Schoolhouse garden," said the Pimple, "but 
did not find it." 

"Of course not," said I. "Digging at random is like look- 
ing for a needle in a haystack." 

The Pimple was much struck by the phrase, and made a 
note of it in his pocket-book, to practise it some days later on 
a choleric major who wanted his parcel dug out in a hurry. 
[Thus he acquired English — and unpopularity I 

"You will grant me a seance?" he asked. 

"Oh yes! Let's see! What's the best day?" I pondered 
deeply. "How's the moon, Moise?" 

"Moon?" said Moise. "What has the moon to do?" 

"Do you want the best results?" I asked. 

"Certainly." 

"Then how's the moon?" (He told me.) "Ah! Then three 
days hence will be best. We'll have a seance on the evening 
of the loth September in the Hospital House. You must get 
me permission to sleep there for the night." 

It was directly contrary to the rules of the camp that a pris- 
oner should be absent from his own house after dark. The 
readiness with which Moise granted the privilege showed he 
had nothing to fear from the Commandant. 

The interview had been most satisfactory. I had learned, 
first, that the Turks believed that there was a treasure; second, 
that two or more of our captors had already been looking for 
it (Moise had said "WE tried the Schoolhouse garden") ; and 
third, that one of the group was probably the Commandant, 
Kiazim Bey himself. No doubt I could have learned all these 
facts quite easily by direct questioning. But the whole art of 
mediumship is to gather information by indirect methods, in 
order that, at a later stage, it may be reproduced by the Spook 
as an original utterance from the unknown. The only memory 
of our conversation Moise was likely to carry away with him 
was the "fact" that the success of a seance depends on the 
state of the moon. 

My plans had been formed during our interview. This was 
obviously what I had waited for so long — an opportunity of 
attaining my object of properly intriguing the Turk. A trea- 



76 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

sure-hunt has a glamour of its own in the most material sur- 
roundings. A treasure-hunt under the guidance of a Spook 
ought to be a stunt beyond price. It only remained to prove 
that the Spook could find things and the Turk would be t)n 
the string. I determined, if necessary, to ground-bait with my 
own poor little store of gold and let the Pimple acquire a 
taste for the game of treasure-hunting by finding it. The ad- 
vantage of this method would be that the rest of the camp 
would remain as much in the dark as to the origin of the gold 
as the Pimple, and I saw the prospect of much fun by or- 
ganizing digging parties throughout the autumn. Had gold 
been at all plentiful this would undoubtedly have been the 
proper course to pursue. But it was a rare commodity, and I 
was reluctant to part with my small stock without first trying 
a cheaper method. 

I therefore waylaid Cochrane. 

"I hear," said I, "that you dug up a revolver the other 
day. Was it a good one?" 

"It was a Smith and Wesson 450," said Cochrane, "and we 
got some ammunition with it. But the weapon's quite un- 
serviceable — the action has rusted to pieces." 

"Would you mind very much parting with it?" I asked. 

"It's of no value," said Cochrane; "but it isn't mine, it's 
Lloyd's. What do you want with it?" 

I told him. 

"Bones, you old villain," he laughed, "you'll get yourself 
hanged yet if you are not careful." That was an uncomfort- 
ably correct prophecy! I remembered it six months later 
when Hill and I were cut down just in time to save our worth- 
less lives. But I am anticipating. 

"I'll take the risk," I said. "If you'll get me the gun." 

Half an hour later the revolver, its holster, and some dozen 
rounds of rust-eaten ammunition were in my possession. It 
had been cleaned, and some of the rust removed. We re- 
rusted it with sulphuric, re-muddied it, and next morning re- 
buried it. The spot chosen was not that where it had been 
found. The garden was terraced in six-foot drops, and a wall 
of uncemented stones upheld each terrace. By removing a 
few stones from the face of the wall, scooping out a cavity in 
the earth beyond and thrusting in the revolver and ammunition, 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR ^7 

Cochrane and I succeeded in planting the revolver in such 
a way that the ground above it was quite undisturbed. The 
only difficulty we might have to overcome was to explain the 
freshness of the mud on the holster; for the surrounding ground 
was bone dry. 

The position now became somewhat delicate. A number of 
officers in the camp knew that Cochrane had discovered a re- 
volver. Several of them had seen it. If the Spook rediscovered 
it, somebody was sure to recognize it and the fat would be in 
the fire. Suspicion would be cast on all our spiritualistic per- 
formances, and the edifice of credulity so painfully built up in 
the camp might easily come crashing to earth. This would 
have been disastrous, for my principal asset in converting the 
Turk was the childlike belief of many of my fellow-prisoners 
in the genuineness of our seances. The general atmosphere of 
faith had an effect on the Pimple which no amount of con- 
certed lying could have achieved. It was essential to retain 
the atmosphere as far as possible, and to bring off the coup 
against the Pimple without affecting the belief in spiritualism 
of the camp as a whole. 

The best plan was obviously to take the camp, up to a 
certain point, into my confidence. I announced that the Pimple 
was about to be subjected to a practical joke. My plan was 
not to have a seance at all, but pretend to the Turks we had 
held one, and had received instructions from the Spook as to 
where to dig. 

But on the morning of the loth, the Pimple announced his 
intention of being present at the sitting. This involved our 
bringing out the answers on the spook-board, and placed a 
fresh difficulty in my way. It was obvious that if I brought 
out the answers by my usual methods, the audience would at 
once realize that if I could fake thus for the Turks, I could 
also fake for them! There must therefore be some difference 
from our ordinary procedure which the audience could easily 
detect for themselves. 

The affair was arranged very simply, to the satisfaction of 
all concerned. As between myself and the audience, we agreed 
that wherever the Turk happened to sit I was to take the 
place immediately on his right. I could then so shade my 
face from him with my left hand that he could not see whether, 



78 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

or not my eyes were open. With my eyes open, I explained 
to my little school of True Believers/ I could push the glass to 
the answers required. The part of the audience on my right 
would see the deception. I begged them to give no sign. 

Such was the public plan. But the private plan was quite 
different. I wanted to be free to watch the Interpreter, and 
to be ready for emergencies. If my attention was to be con- 
centrated on spelling out the correct answers I could not do 
this efficiently. So far as my fellow-prisoners were concerned, 
I would be the centre of interest. They knew beforehand the 
thing was to be faked by me, and they would naturally watch 
me closely to see how the fake could be carried out. Nightin- 
gale and I talked the matter over. It was decided that he 
should be responsible for pushing the glass to the correct 
letters. This would leave me free to act my double part so 
as to appear genuine to the Pimple and fraudulent to the rest 
of the audience, without being bothered with what the glass 
was doing on the board. Further, in order fully to occupy 
the Pimple's attention, we decided to employ him as a recorder 
and keep him so busy writing down letters that he would not 
have any time to spare for watching the mediums. 

The result was most gratifying. Nobody for one moment 
suspected Nightingale. Everybody, except the Pimple, "de- 
tected" me pushing the glass. They came up to me after- 
wards, congratulated me on my excellent imitation of a seance, 
and remarked: "Of course it was quite easy to see you were 
pushing the glass. We could see you were watching the 
board." Surely there were no further fields to conquer! The 
True Believers had first been convinced that I wasn't pushing 
the glass when I was, and now they were equally convinced 
that I was pushing the glass when I wasn't! 

The Spook fixed the 12 th of September for the treasure- 
hunt. At 2 p. m. on that day, by the Spook's orders, Mundey 
(who wanted to share in the joke) waited with me outside the 

*From now onwards O'Farrell, Matthews, and Price did not 
attend any of our seances, as communication was not allowed be- 
tween the Schoolhouse and the Hospital House after dark. The 
seances that led up to trapping the Interpreter were conducted by- 
Nightingale, Bishop, Hill, and myself, with Edmonds and Mundey 
as recorders, and numerous casual visitors. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 79 

woodshed by the Majors' house. The Pimple came fussing 
up. 

"Good morning, Mundeyl Morning, Jones 1 You are 
ready?" 

"Yes," we answered. 

"Let me see." Moise consulted his record of the seance. 
"The shavings for fire? The cord to bind your hands? The 
cloaks? The ink and saucer?" he ticked off each item as we 
produced them. 

"What about your companion, Mo'ise?" Mundey asked. 
"The Spook said there must be two of you." 

"Soon the Cook will be here," the Pimple said, "and like 
myself he is carrying hidden steel. Feel! A bayonet" — ^he 
thrust forward a stiff leg. Inside the trouser-leg, according 
to the Spook's instructions, he was wearing a naked bayonet 
which reached well below the knee. 

I was a little disappointed that the Commandant's Cook 
should be the fourth, for I had hoped the Spook's orders might 
bring out Kiazim Bey himself. But the Cook was no ordi- 
nary cook — he was the confident as well as the orderly of our 
Commandant, was practically Second in Command of the 
camp, and was altogether as big a rascal as ever wore baggy 
trousers. The Pimple's selection of this man to accompany us 
instead of one of the regular sentries was another proof that 
the Commandant was in the know. 

"Do you think there will be danger?" Mo'ise asked. 

Mundey, with a fine air of martyrdom, shrugged his shoul- 
ders. "One never knows in these things," he said carelessly, 
"but if we follow instructions it should be all right." 

"Oh, I hope so," said the Pimple. "Why do you think the 
Spook says, 'the Treasure is by Arms guarded'? Why does 
he insist that first we find the arms? Why not lead us straight 
to the treasure?" 

"Don't be impatient," said Mundey severely; "for all you 
know the treasure may be mined, and if we go digging it up 
without disconnecting the mine we would all go up together. 
Our job is to obey the Spook's instructions, not to argue about 
them." 

"Do you think we shall find these arms which are guarding 
our treasure?" Moise asked. 



8o THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"I think so," Mundey said. "You have done this sort of 
thing before, haven't you, Bones?" 

"Oh yes," I answered. 

The C^ok arrived, walking gingerly on account of the bayo- 
net. He spoke rapidly in Turkish to the Pimple, who turned 
to us and translated. 

'The Cook wants to know what are we to do if the Spook 
leads to a harem?" 

Munday and I had the utmost difficulty in keeping our 
faces straight — we had not thought of such an enterprise. 

"We can stop outside, I suppose," said Mundey. 

The Pimple translated to the Cook, who burst into a torrent 
of agitated Turkish. 

"He is saying," Pimple translated, "you will be entranced 
and the Spook says on no account must you be touched or 
spoken to. How then are we to stop you if you are making 
to go into the women's quarters?" 

"Probably only one of us will be entranced," I said, "and 
if that is me you tell Mundey to stop me. You know how, 
don't you, Mundey?" 

Mundey rose to the occasion. "Certainly," he said. "I can 
use the Red Karen teletanic thought transmission." 

"What is that?" asked the Pimple. 

"Never you mind," said I. "That's a secret process I taught 
Mundey in Burma. Come on! Let's get ready," I stretched 
out my hands and the Cook bound them together with the cord 
we had brought for the purpose. Then he did the same for 
Mundey. These little things all count in instilling credulity. 

"Now what to do?" asked the Pimple. 

"Hush!" said Mundey. "Look at Jones! He's going off! 
Don't speak — for Heaven's sake don't speak to him." 

I went gradually off into a "trance." It was hard acting in 
broad daylight, with the two eager treasure-hunters watching 
at close range. The fact that I had never seen anybody go 
off into a trance did not make it any easier. But I had big 
plans at stake. 

At last, speaking in a slow, sleepy voice, I addressed an 
invisible person behind the Interpreter, looking through him 
as if he were not there. "What did you say?" I asked. 

The Pimple twirled roimd, but of course saw nothing. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 8i 

"What?" I repeated. "I— can't— hear." 

"To whom is he speaking?" asked Moise. "There is noth- 
ing I see! Can you see?" 

"Hush — ^hush! For any sake be quiet!" Mundey was act- 
ing splendidly. 

"South!" I shouted, and started off at a great pace down 
the lane. "South! South!" 

Mundey kept step with me. The Pimple and the Cook trot- 
ted (uncomfortably because of the bayonets) close behind us. 
With eyes fixed on the "spirit" I rushed past the astonished 
sentry, who obeyed a signal from Moi'se and made no effort to 
stop me. As I went I called to the spirit to have mercy on us 
poor mortals, and not to go so fast. Then, as my breath 
failed, I came to a stop and sat down in the cabbage-patch 
outside the camp. 

"What has happened? Where am I?" I looked up at 
Moise with a dazed expression. 

"You cannot see it now?" MoTse asked in great agitation. 
"It is not quite gone away, surely?" 

"Quick!" said Mundey. "The Ink Pool! Before it goes! 
Hurry up, Moise!" 

The Interpreter produced the bottle of ink and saucer 
which the Spook had ordered him to bring. We poured the 
ink into the saucer, and Mundey and I stared fixedly into it. 

"Ah!" said Mundey. 

"Ah!" said I. 

"What is it?" asked the Pimple, peering over our shoulders 
into the ink pool. We paid no attention to him. 

"Can you see which way it is pointing?" Mundey asked. 

"Yes," said I. "West! Come on!" Jumping to our feet, 
Mundey and I started westwards up the hill as fast as we 
could go. Our bayonet-hobbled friends had the utmost diffi- 
culty in keeping up with us. We led them a pretty dance 
before we pulled up at the spot where the revolver was buried. 

Here I asked for instructions from the invisible Spook. I 
was once more in a trance — a fact to which Mundey judiciously 
drew the Pimple's attention. 

"Which test do you suggest?" I asked. 

The Spook's reply was audible only to myself. I turned on 
the Pimple. 



82 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"Quick!" I said. "Do what he says, or we'll be too latel" 

"And what does he say?" the Pimple asked. 

"He wants the test of the Head-hunting Waas," I explained 
excitedly. "Quick, man! Quick!" 

"I do not understand." The unhappy Pimple wrung his 
hands. 

"The fire! The shavings! Quick, you idiot!" I raved. 
(It was great fun being able to abuse our captors without fear 
of punishment.) 

With trembling fingers the Pimple undid the bundle of shav- 
ings. I snatched it from him, deposited it directly over where 
the revolver lay, and put a match to it. Then standing over 
the blaze, with arms outstretched towards the heavens, I re- 
cited — 

"Tra bo dwr y mor yn hallt, 
A thra bo 'ngwallt yn tyfu, 
A thra bo calon dan fy mron 
Mi fydda 'n fyddlon iti," 

etc., etc., and so on. Celtic scholars will recognize a popular 
Welsh love lyric. In Yozgad it passed muster, very well, as 
the Incantation of the Head-hunting Waas. The Pimple and 
the Cook listened open-mouthed. Even Mundey was im- 
pressed. 

"Something is here," I called. "I feel it. Get a pick!" 
Moi'se turned to the Cook in great excitement and translated. 
Opposite us, at the foot of the little garden, was a high wail. 
The Cook was over it in a flash, like a monkey gone mad, and 
a moment later we could see him racing up the road towards 
the Commandant's office to get the necessary implements for 
digging. 

I glanced round and saw Corbould-Warren's grinning face 
watching from behind a neighbouring wall. Close to him was 
a little crowd of my fellow-prisoners, all more or less helpless 
with suppressed laughter. The impulse to laugh along with 
them was almost irresistible. To save myself from doing so 
I sat down heavily, in a semi-collapse, against Tony's hen- 
house, and buried my face in my arms. Mundey ministered 
nobly to me until the Cook reappeared with the pick. I began 
to dig. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 83 

I calculated the revolver ought to be about fifteen inches 
underground. When the hole was a foot deep I stopped, and 
again appeared to listen to the invisible Spook. 

"I forgot," I said apologetically, "I am sorry." Then, turn- 
ing to Moise, "We've forgotten the fourth element, Moisel 
Hurry up! Get it!" 

"Fourth element! I do not understand." 

"Oh, you ass!" I shouted. "We've had Air and Earth and 
Fire. We want the other one." 

"But what is it?" Moise wailed. 

"Water!" said Mundey. "Quick — a bucket of water!" 

Moise rushed into the house and brought out a pail of 
water. I took it from him and poured it into the hole. As 
the last drops soaked into the dry earth I breathed more freely. 
Any fresh mud or dampness on the revolver due to the re- 
muddying process would now be properly accounted for. I 
resumed the digging. A moment later the butt of the revolver 
came to light. With a wild yell I pointed at it, staggered, and 
"threw a faint." It was a good faint — rather too good — not 
only did I cut my forehead open on a stone, but one of our 
own British orderlies who was not "in the know" ran out with 
a can of water and drenched me thoroughly. I was then carried 
by orderlies into the house and laid on my own bed. 

Outside, the comedy was in full swing. When the revolver 
was found, neither the Cook nor the Interpreter worried for a 
moment about my condition. For all they cared I might have 
been dead. Without a glance in my direction, they let me 
lie where I had fallen, and seizing pick and shovel, began to 
dig like furies. If "the Treasure was by Arms guarded" surely 
it must be somewhere near those arms! They dug and they 
dug. They tore away the terrace wall. They made a hole 
big enough to hide a mule. The Sage, who lived in a room 
just above the rapidly growing crater, was roused from his 
meditations. He sallied forth and cross-examined Mundey. 

"What — aw — have we here?" he asked. "What — aw — ^what 
nonsense is this?" 

"Shut up, Sage," said Mundey, fearful that the Pimple would 
overhear. 

"But — ah — ^what is the — aw — object of this excavation?" 

"Do be quiet!" Mundey begged. 



84 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"You — aw — ^you appear to me to be — ah — bent on uprooting 
the garden! What are you — aw " 

In despair Mundey imitated my procedure and fainted too! 
The grinning orderHes helped him up to my room. The Sage 
continued to look on, in mute astonishment. Luckily the 
Pimple was too excited to have eyes for anything but the 
treasure. 

A few minutes later Stace, who shared the Sage's room, 
came up to me. 

"For any sake, Bones, go out and stop the Cook digging." 

"Has he dug much?" I asked. 

"Much?" said Stace. "He has torn up the garden by the 
roots! If you don't stop him he'll have the house down." 

"Right-o, Staggers. I'll stop him!" 

Stace went off, leaving me to think out the next move. A 
few minutes later, I went downstairs, supporting myself by 
the banisters, with every appearance of weakness. Mo'ise and 
the Cook, bathed in perspiration and grime from their exer- 
tions, met me at the foot. I leant feebly against the wall 
beside them. 

"Are you better?" asked Moi'se. 

"What happened?" I asked. "How did I get back to my 
room? Did we find anything?" 

The Pimple patted me affectionately on the shoulder. "Mag- 
nificent!" he said. "You have been in a trance. You found 
the revolver." 

"No!" I exclaimed. "Where?" 

They led me to the hole. "Bless my soul!" I said. "Did 
I dig that?" 

"Not all," said the Pimple. "When you found the revolver 
you fainted. Then the Cook and I, we digged the ground, but 
found nothing." 

"What?" I said. *'You dug?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, you've spoiled everything then! The Spook ordered 
you to do nothing without instructions from me." 

"You think the Spirit will be angered?" 

"Think! Tell me, did you find anything more?" 

"No," said the Pimple. 

"Well, there you are!" said I. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 85 

The Pimple translated into Turkish for the Cook's benefit. 
For some minutes they talked together eagerly. Then the 
Cook seized my hand, pressed it to his ragged bosom, and 
became very eloquent. 

"He is thanking you," said Moise. "He says you are most 
wonderful of mediums. You will know how the Spirit may 
be appeased. We shall dig no more without orders." 



CHAPTER VII 

OF T,HE CALOMEL MANIFESTATION AND HOW KIAZIM FELL INTO 

THE NET 

THE camp as a whole had enjoyed the treasure-hunt. 
Mundey and I were congratulated on having pulled 
off a good practical joke against the Turk. On the 
other hand, there were a few who disapproved of 
what we had done. They held that discovery of the fraud 
would anger the Turk, not only against the perpetrators, but 
against the whole camp. Our success, however, deprived their 
criticism of any force, and they confined themselves to a warn- 
ing that it was foolish to run such risks without an object. 

Nobody guessed that behind my foolery there was an object, 
and a very serious one. It was the first real step in a con- 
sidered plan of escape. 

Escape from any prison camp in Turkey was difficult. From 
Yozgad it was regarded as practically impossible. Here the 
Turks sent Cochrane, Price, and Stoker, who had made such 
a gallant but unsuccessful attempt to get away from Afion 
Kara Hissar in 191 6; and here, later on, came the Kastamouni 
Incorrigibles — some forty officers who had refused to give their 
parole. Yozgad was the punishment camp of Turkey. 

Escape was not a question of defeating the sentries. The 
''Gamekeepers" who preserved our numbers intact were nearly 
all old men, and were very far from being wide awake. On 
fine days they snoozed at their posts; if it was cold, or wet, 
or dark they snuggled in their sentry-boxes. As several officers 
proved by experiment, it was no difficult matter to get out of 
the camp and back again without detection. 

The real sentries were the 350 miles of mountain, rock and 
desert that lay between us and freedom in every direction. 
Such a journey under the most favourable conditions is some- 

86 




"On Fine Days They Snoozed at Their Posts 
A Game-keeper on Guard in Yozgad 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 87 

thing of an ordeal. I would not like to have to walk it by 
daylight, in peace-time, buying food at villages as I went. 
Consider that for the runaway the ground would have to be 
covered at night, that food for the whole distance would have 
to be carried, and that the country was infested with brigands 
who stripped travellers even within gunshot of our camp; add 
to this that we knew nothing of the language or customs of 
the people and had no maps. It is not difficult to understand 
why we were slow to take advantage of our sleeping sentries.^ 
There was another factor that prevented men from making 
the attempt. It was generally believed that the escape of one 
or more officers from our camp would result in a "strafe" for 
those who remained behind. We feared that such small privi- 
leges as we had won would be taken away from us — the weekly 
walk, the right to visit one another's houses in the daytime, 
and access to the tiny gardens and the lane (it was only 70 
yards long) for exercise. We would revert to the original un- 
bearable conditions, when we had been packed like sardines in 
our rooms, day and night, and our exercise limited to Swedish 
drill in the 6 ft. by 3 ft. space allotted for each man's sleeping 
accommodation. A renewal of the old conditions of confine- 
ment might — ^probably would — mean the death of several of 
us. Such, we believed, would be the probable consequences of 
escape.^ 

*It is true that the feat was eventually accomplished, and eight 
men led by Cochrane reached Cyprus in September, 1918. The 
narrative of their adventures has been published, and is a splendid 
story of pluck and almost superhuman endurance, of wise and heroic 
leadership. But these qualities, which the party possessed in meas- 
ure full to overflowing, would have availed them little had they not 
met with the stupendous luck that their courage deserved. It de- 
tracts not one whit from the splendour of their achievement that 
their effort was favoured by the Goddess of Fortune. And the re- 
flection may bring some comfort to the eighteen others who started 
the same night — only to be recaptured — and to those wiseacres who 
remained behind. 

' Events prove we were perfectly correct in our anticipation o£ 
what the Turks would do in the event of an escape. 

(i) After the attempted escape of Cochrane, Price, and Stoker 
from Afion Kara Hissar in 1916, the whole camp were confined for 
six weeks without exercise in a church. 

(2) The escape of Bishop, Keeling, Tipton, and Sweet from 



88 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

The belief acted in two ways in preventing escapes. Some 
men who would otherwise have made the attempt decided it 
was not fair to their comrades in distress to do so. Others 
considered themselves justified, in interest of the camp as a 
whole, in stopping any man who wanted to try. And the ma- 
jority — a large majority — of the camp held they were right. 
The general view was that as success for the escaper was most 
improbable, and trouble for the rest of us most certain, nobody 
ought to make the attempt. For we knew what "trouble" 
meant in Turkey. Most of the prisoners in Yozgad were from 
Kut-el-Amara. We had starved there, before our surrender: 
we had struggled, still starving across the 500 miles of desert 
to railhead. We had seen men die from neglect and want. 
Many of us had been perilously near such a death ourselves. 
We had felt the grip of the Turk and knew what he could do. 
Misery, neglect, starvation and imprisonment had combined 
to foster in us a very close regard for our own interests. We 
were individualists, almost to a man. So we clung, as a drown- 
ing man clings to an oar, to the few alleviations that made ex- 
istence in Yozgad possible, and we resented anything which 
might endanger those privileges. 

It is easy enough for the armchair critic to say it is a man's 
duty to his country to escape if he can. As a general maxim 
we might have accepted that. The tragedy in Yozgad was 
that his duty to his country came into conflict with his duty 
to his fellow-prisoners. I thought at the time, and I still think, 
that we allowed the penny near our eye to shut out the world. 

Kastamouni in 1917 was followed by a very severe "strafing" of the 
whole camp. 

(3) The big escape of twenty-six officers from Yozgad in Au- 
gust 1918 was followed by a camp "strafe." 

(4) The following Turkish Order, which was put up on our 
notice-board in Yozgad in October 1917 speaks for itself. I quote 
it verbatim: 

"The stipulations of the Penal Military Statutes will be applied 
fully and severely to the officers or men Prisoners of War who will 
try to run away and will be caught and they will be confined in a 
special building in the district of Afion Kara Hissar. In (sic) the 
other hand their comrades will be deprived of all liberty and privi- 
leges. The prisoners of war in my camp are requested to take in- 
formation of this communique. 

"The Commandant." 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 89 

But it was only a few irresponsibles like Winfield-Smith who 
shared my view that the question of whether a man should 
try or not should be left to the individual to decide, and if he 
decided to go the rest of us ought to help him, and face the 
subsequent music as cheerfully as might be. And I must 
confess, in fairness to the officers who undertook the unpleasant 
task of stopping Hill when he was ready to escape in June 
191 7, that though in principle I disapproved of their action, 
in fact I was exceedingly glad, for my own sake, that he did 
not go. 

I suppose every one of us spent many hours weighing his 
own chances of escape. For myself I knew I had not the 
physical stamina considered necessary for the journey. If the 
camp stopped a man like Hill, they would be ten times more 
eager to stop me. Secrecy was therefore essential. Believing, 
as I did, that the War might continue for several years, I had 
made up my mind in 19 17 to make the attempt and trust to 
luck more than to skill or strength to carry me through. But 
because of the feebleness of my chance, and the extreme proba- 
bility that my comrades would not have the consolation of my 
success in their suffering, it behoved me more than anyone 
else to seek for some way of escape which would not implicate 
my fellows, and not to resort to a direct bolt until it was clear 
that all other possibilities had been exhausted. 

My plan was to make the Turkish authorities at Yozgad 
my unconscious accomplices. / intended to implicate the high- 
est Turkish authority in the place in my escape, to obtain clear 
and convincing proof that he was implicated, and to leave that 
proof in the hands of my fellow-prisoners before I disappeared. 
It would then be clearly to the Commandant's interest to con- 
ceal the fact of my escape from the authorities at Constanti- 
nople (he could do so by reporting my death) ; or, if conceal- 
ment were impossible, he would not dare to visit his wrath 
upon the camp, as they could retaliate by reporting his com- 
plicity to his official superiors. By these means, I hoped, not 
only would my fellow-prisoners retain their privileges, but by 
judicious threatening they might even acquire more. 

The most obvious way to accomplish my object was by 
bribery, and it was of bribery that I first thought. The dif- 
ficulties were twofold: first, there were no means of getting 



90 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

money in sufficient quantity; second, supposing I got the money 
together, I could see no method by which the camp could 
satisfy the Constantinople authorities that it had gone into the 
pocket of the Commandant. The Turk takes bribes, readily 
enough, but he is exceedingly careful how he takes them, and 
he covers up his tracks with Oriental cunning. If I could not 
provide the camp with proof of the Commandant's guilt, I 
might as well save my money and bolt without bribing him. 

I was trying to convince myself that these difficulties ought 
not to be insuperable when the Interpreter first evinced an 
interest in spooking, and the Commandant's belief in the 
supernatural was proved by his official notice of May 6th 
(see p. 68). From that moment I discarded all thought of 
bribery. I was filled with the growing hope that my door to 
freedom lay through the Ouija. And first and foremost in 
pursuance of my plan, I aimed at inveigling the Commandant 
into the spiritualistic circle and making him the instrument of 
my escape. The news that there existed a buried treasure 
which the Turks were seeking gave me an idea of how to 
do it. 

To my fellow-prisoners the farcical hunt for the revolver 
had appeared a complete success. To me it was a bitter failure. 
I felt that if the Spook's achievement in finding the weapon 
did not bring out the Commandant, nothing would. But day 
followed day, and he made no sign. A considerable experience 
of the Eastern mind made it easy enough for me to guess the 
reason for his reticence. Like the Oriental he was, he wished 
above all things to avoid committing himself. He clearly in- 
tended to work entirely through his two subordinates, the In- 
terpreter and the Cook. If anything went wrong, he could not 
be implicated. If everything went right, and the treasure were 
discovered, he could use his official position to seize the lion's 
share. It was clear that there would be a long struggle before 
I could get into direct touch with the Commandant. I decided 
that the Pimple must learn for himself that he could get "no 
forrarder" with the Spook until he put all his cards on the 
table. It was to be a battle of patience, and knowing some- 
thing of Oriental patience, I almost despaired. 

Time and again after the revolver incident the Pimple at- 
tended seances. To his amazement and regret he found the 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 91 

attitude of the Spook had undergone a complete change: for 
a long time nothing but abuse of the Turks emanated from 
the board. The Spook was very angry with them for exceeding 
instructions and continuing to dig after the revolver had been 
found. Not one word would It say about the treasure. The 
Pimple apologized to the board abjectly, humbly, profusely. 
It made no difference. The Spook turned a deaf ear to all the 
little man's pleas for forgiveness. Its only concession was to 
produce a photograph of the owner of the treasure on a piece 
of gaslight paper which the Pimple obtained in the bazaar and 
held to his own forehead at a seance. With commendable 
perseverance the Pimple kept up his appeals for two months. 
Then at last he delivered himself into my hands. He lost his 
temper with the Spook. 

"Always you are cursing and threatening," he said to the 
glass, "but you never do anything. Can you manifest upon 
me?" 

"To-night," answered the glass, ''you shall die!" 

"No! Please, no! Nothing serious, please! I beg your 
pardon! Please take my cap off, or my gloves! I only wanted 
you to move something!" 

"Very good," said the Spook, "I shall move something. For 
this occasion I pardon. I shall not kill. But to-morrow morn- 
ing you shall suffer. I shall manifest upon you." The Spook 
then went into details of what would happen to the Pimple 
to-morrow morning. 

Two hours later we gathered in my room, as usual, to dis- 
cuss the seance, and as usual the Pimple drank cocoa — our 
cocoa — with infinite relish. He enjoyed it very much that 
night, because it was extra sweet. That was to cover any 
possible flavour from the six grains of calomel I had slipped 
into his cup! 

I met him again on the afternoon of the following day. He 
looked pale. 

"Well, Moise," I said, "did the Spook fulfil his prom- 
ise?" 

Mo'ise gave me all the gruesome details in an awed tone. 
"And it was no use sending for the doctor," he added, "be- 
cause I knew it was all supernatural. I am most thankful it 
is all over." 



92 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

I congratulated him on being alive. 

"I shall press no more for the treasure," said he; "this lesson 
is for me sufficient." 

''Good," said I. 

It was more than good. It was excellent. His subordinate 
having failed, surely the Commandant would now come for- 
ward. I waited hopefully, a week, a fortnight, a month. But 
Kiazim Bey never put in an appearance. I thought I was 
beaten and all but gave up hope. So far as was possible, I 
backed out of spooking. There seemed no alternative to tl.e 
direct bolt. I made my plans to go on skis at the end of 
February, or beginning of March. I warned my room-mates, 
in confidence, that I might disappear, sent a cryptogram to 
my father, and began to train. But early in January I met 
with an accident while practising. A bone in my knee was 
injured in such a way as to put escape out of the question fo: 
me till well on in the spring. I sold my skis to Colbeck and 
turned back to my first love. 

Perhaps the pain in my knee acted as a counter-irritant to 
my sluggish wits. A few days after the accident the necessary 
brain-wave arrived. The Pimple was in the lane at the time. 
I hobbled out to him through the snow. We chatted, and our 
chat came round to the old subject — the Spook — quite natur- 
ally. 

"This rage of the Spirit's — it cannot be explained," the 
Pimple said. 

"No," I replied, "I have only seen one previous instance 
where the Spook behaved so badly for so long. And there the 
circumstances were different." 

"What were the circumstances?" 

"It was soon after my adventure with the Head-hunting 
Waas," I said, "about which I shall tell you some day." 

The Pimple smiled knowingly. "I know it," he said; 
"months ago Captain Freeland told me in confidence." 

"Did he? Well, it got about that I had learned occultism in 
captivity. A lady asked me to consult the Spirit about a gold 
watch she had lost." 

"Did you find it?" the Pimple asked. 

"Oh yes. Quite easily. Then several other people came 
who had lost other things. The Spook found them all. Then 



•Hf * 'jr.^*-.;-! 




m 



o 
O 






THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 93 

came a man who asked me to find a diamond necklace for a 
friend of his, whose name he would not give. I tried, and the 
Spook became abusive — for three months it abused us. Finally 
a fakir told me the reason. The Spook was angry because the 
sitter kept back the name of the lady who wanted the necklace. 
It wanted our full confidence and full faith." 

"But we have full faith," said the Pimple, "yet it abuses 
us." 

"Of course we have," I agreed. "The present case is quite 
different, for we are not keeping back anything from the Spook 
or hiding anybody's interest in the search. You see, in the 
affair of the diamond necklace the lady who wanted it was in 
a very high social position, and she was afraid of being laughed 
at for consulting the Spook, so she remained in the background. 
That made the Spook angry." 

"I see," said Moise. "And did you find the necklace in the 
end?" 

"Oh yes. Once the lady learned the reason, she allowed her 
name to be mentioned, and we found it at once." 

"I see," said the Pimple. "Who was the lady?" 

"I don't mind telling you in confidence," I replied; "it was 
Princess Hlavatsky." 

"Oh!" said the Pimple. 

Then I hobbled back to my room to be abused by dear old 
Uncle and Pa for playing the fool with my knee, and to await 
results. 

On January 30th the result came. Our Mess were sitting 
down to the regulation lunch of wheat "pillao" and duff when 
a sentry appeared and handed me a note demanding my pres- 
ence at the office. Thinking there might be a parcel await- 
ing me, I nodded and indicated by signs (for in those days we 
knew no Turkish) that I would come as soon as lunch was 
over. The man got excited. 

"Shindif" (now), "Skindi!" he said. "Commandant! 
Commandant!" 

My heart seemed to stand still. The time had come. Hick- 
man looked at me anxiously. 

"What's up, Bones?" he asked. "Are you ill? You've gone 
white." 

"It's my knee," I said. "It got a twist just now." 



94 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

*'Chabook! Gel! Commandant! Commandant!" repeated 
the sentry. 

<'It — aw — seems the Commandant wants you," the voice of 
the Sage explained from the next table. 

The Sage was wrong, as usual. It was I who wanted the 
Commandant. But I let it pass and went off with the anxious 
sentry. 

In the office Kiazim Bey returned my salute with dignity 
and politeness. Then he shook hands with me and placed me 
in a seat on one side of the table. He sat opposite. The In- 
terpreter stood at attention by his side. 

This was my first introduction to the Commandant. During 
my nineteen months of prison life in Yozgad I had seen him 
only rarely, and never spoken to him. Small fry like Second 
Lieutenants had small chance of getting to know the man who 
refused interviews with our most senior Colonels and consist- 
ently kept aloof from us all. As he spoke to the Interpreter I 
studied him with interest. He was a man of about fifty years 
of age, a little above middle height, well dressed in a uniform 
surtout of pearly grey. Except for a slight forward stoop of 
the head when he walked, he carried himself well. His move- 
ments were slow and deliberately dignified; his voice low, soft, 
and not unpleasing. The kalpak which he wore indoors and out 
alike covered a well-shaped head. His hair, at the temples, was 
silver-white, and an iron-grey moustache hid a weak but cruel 
mouth. His features were well-formed, but curiously expres- 
sionless. I believe that no prisoner in Yozgad, except Hill and 
myself, ever saw him laugh. His complexion was of an ex- 
traordinary pallor, due partly to much illness, and partly to 
his hothouse existence indoors; for Hke most well-to-do Turks, 
he rarely took any exercise. And he had the most astonish- 
ing pair of eyes it has ever been my fortune to look into; deep- 
set, wonderfully large and lustrous, and of a strange deep 
brown colour that merged imperceptibly into the black of the 
pupil. They were the eyes of a mystic or of a beautiful woman, 
as his hands with their delicate taper fingers were those of an 
artist. He played nervously with a pencil while he spoke to me 
through the Interpreter, but never took his eyes from my face 
throughout the interview. He began with Western abruptness, 
and plunged in medias res. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 95 

"Before we go into any details," he said, "I want your word 
of honour not to communicate to anyone what I am now going 
to tell you." 

"I will give it with pleasure. Commandant, on two condi- 
tions." 

''What are they?" 

"First, that your proposals are in no way detrimental to my 
friends or to my country." 

"They are not," said the Commandant. "I promise you 
that. What is your second condition?" 

"That I don't already know what you are going to tell 
me." 

"It is impossible for you to know that," he replied. "How 
can you know what is in my mind?" 

I looked at him steadily, for perhaps half a minute, smiling 
a little. 

"It is impossible for you to know," he repeated. 

"You forget, Commandant, or perhaps you do not know. 
I am a thought-reader." 

"Well?" 

The time had come to risk everything on a single throw. 

"Let me tell you, then," I said, "You are going to ask me 
to find for you a treasure, buried by a murdered Armenian of 
Yozgad. You want me to do so by the aid of Spirits. And 
you are prepared to offer me a reward." 

The Commandant leant back in his chair, in mute astonish- 
ment, staring at me. 

"Am I correct?" I asked. 

He bowed, but did not speak. We sat for a little time in 
silence, he toying again with his pencil, I endeavouring to look 
unconcerned, and smiling. It was easy to smile, for the heart 
within me was leaping with joy. 

"I am afraid," he said at last, "that if our War Office learned 
that I had entered into a compact with one of my prisoners, 
it would go ill with me." 

"There will be no compact, Commandant," I said; "I have 
no need of money. You mustn't judge by this" (I touched my 
ragged coat and laughed). "What I seek from the Spirits is 
not money. It is knowledge and power. But I feel I owe you 
something. You have had me in your power, as your prisoner, 



96 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

and have shown me no discourtesy. I am grateful to you for 
what you have done for us, for the privileges you have granted, 
and the kindnesses you have shown. And in return any small 
skill I possess as a medium is wholly at your service. I shall 
do my best to find this treasure for you, if you wish it." 

"You are very kind," said Kiazim Bey, and bowed. He was 
obviously waiting for my parole. 

"As to secrecy," I went on, "it is as essential for myself as 
for you. If I find this money for you, the British War Office 
may quite well shoot me on my release for giving funds to the 
enemy. And there is much more danger of me being discovered 
than of you. It is very hard to keep what happens at seances 
secret from the camp. For my own sake, of course, I must 
do my best to keep it dark. I cannot promise more than 
that." 

"The camp does not matter much," said the Commandant, 
"it is Constantinople that is important." 

"I cannot see. Commandant, that you are doing them any 
harm by seeking to find this money by any means in your 
power. But that is neither here nor there. Before this game 
is played out I shall require helpers — and at least one other 
medium, and perhaps recorders must get to know. I promise 
that if you play the game with us, Constantinople will remain 
in the dark so far as I am concerned. But I cannot promise 
that the camp may not find out." 

"The great danger will be if we find the treasure. Then you 
must be silent as the grave," he said. 

"That I can promise — it is to my interest as well as yours," 
I replied. 

"Silent as the grave, then," he said, holding out his hand. 

"As the grave," I answered, and grasped it. 

I arranged with the Pimple for an early seance and rose to 
go. The Commandant accompanied me to the door. I could 
see, more by his expressive fingers than by his impassive face, 
that he was greatly agitated. He put a detaining hand on my 
arm. 

"That was a most serious oath," he said, looking at me 
strangely. I tried to fathom the meaning behind the dark 
eyes, and think I succeeded. It was the vultus instantis 
tyranni. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 97 

"Serious as Death, Commandant," I said. 

He half nodded, and returned my salute with slow gravity. 

As I limped down the road in charge of my sentry I felt 
like singing with happiness. The long weary period of waiting 
and groping in the dark was past, and the first big step in my 
plan had been achieved. The Commandant was hooked at last. 
There would be real excitement in spooking now, with Liberty 
to greet success at one end, and Heaven knows what to greet 
failure at the other. And best of all I would no longer be 
alone. I had long since determined that as soon as the pre- 
liminary difficulties had been overcome and a definite scheme 
became possible, I would seek a companion. I had had enough 
of plotting and planning in solitude during the last six months. 
I longed for companionship. 

There were probably many men in the camp who would have 
joined me had they been asked, but there was only one who 
had given clear proof of his deadly keenness to get away. This 
was Lieutenant C. W. Hill, an Australian Flying Officer. I 
knew how he had trained for three months in secret during 
the spring of 191 7; how, while others slept, he had crept down 
to the cellar and spent hours a night doing the goose-step with 
a forty-pound pack of tiles on his back, and how time and 
again he had tested the vigilance of the sentries. As has been 
already mentioned, his plan was discovered by his fellow officers 
on the eve of his departure, and he was stopped by them and 
placed on parole. The disappointment to him had been almost 
unbearable. I guessed he v/as in the mood for anything, and 
knew he would never "talk," even if he refused my offer. 

He possessed other qualities which would make him an in- 
valuable collaborator for me. He had extraordinary skill with 
his hands. He v/as, perhaps, the most thorough, and certainly 
the neatest carpenter in the camp. (The camera which he se- 
cretly manufactured out of a Cadbury's cocoa-box was a mas- 
terpiece of ingenuity and patience.) He could find his way by 
day or night with equal ease, and he could drive anything, from 
a wheelbarrow to an aeroplane or a railway engine. Lastly, 
he was a wonderful conjuror, the best amateur any of us had 
ever seen. 

I knew I was choosing well, but I little knew how well.. 



98 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Seeking a practical man, with patience and determination and 
a close tongue, I was to find in Hill all these beyond measure, 
and with them a great heart, courage that no hardship could 
break, and loyalty like the sea. 

I went straight to him on my return from the Commandant, 
and led him aside to a quiet spot where we could talk. I 
asked him what risks he was willing to take to get away from 
Yozgad, He objected, at once, that he was on parole, and 
that the feeling of the camp had to be considered. 

"I' know," I said, "but supposing I can get you off that 
parole, and fix the camp safely, how far would you go?" 

Hill did not answer for a considerable time. 

"You're not joking?" he said, at last. 

"No," I replied. 

"Then I'll tell you." Hill spoke slowly and with emphasis. 
"To get away from this damned country I'll go the pool! — all 
€ut. I won't be retaken alive." 

The man was terribly in earnest. I told him, briefly, how 
I had been struggling for months to get a hold over the Turks, 
and how the opportunity had come that very afternoon. I 
outlined my plans as far as they had been framed. Hill 
listened eagerly, and in silence. 

"It amounts to this," I concluded; "before we openly com- 
mit ourselves in any way towards escape, we must obtain proof 
of the Commandant's complicity and place that proof in the 
liands of somebody in the camp. That wall make the camp 
safe. I guarantee you nothing but a share in what will look 
like a practical joke against the Turk, It may go no further 
than that. And I warn you that if the Turk finds us out, it 
may be unpleasant. It must be one thing at a time. Once 
we have got the proof it will be time enough to decide on our 
final line of action. We will then have a choice of three things 
— escape, exchange, or compassionate release. Finally, if you 
join up with me in this, you will be handicapping yourself 
should we decide upon a straight runaway. Apart from my 
game leg, you could find plenty of fellows in camp who could 
make rings round me across country." 

We discussed the matter in and out, and finally agreed: 

(i) So far as we ourselves were concerned, to risk every-^ 
thing and go any length to get away. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 99 

(2) But on no account to implicate anyone else in the 
camp. We must so arrange the escape that the Turks would 
have no excuse whatsoever for strafing the others. 

(3) To take nobody into our confidence until it was abso- 
lutely necessary. There were plenty of men we could trust 
not to give us away intentionally. But any one of them might 
make a slip which would defeat our plans. 

(4) When possible, to discuss every move beforehand, and 
to follow the line agreed on. 

(5) If circumstances prevented such discussion. Hill was 
to follow my lead blindly, without question or alteration. 

(6) If or when it came to a bolt across country, Hill was 
to take charge. 

We shook hands on this bargain, and separated: it did not 
do to whisper too long in corners at Yozgad. I returned to my 
Mess. 

"What did they want with you in the office?" Pa asked. 

"Just some money that's expected," I said. "Where's my 
lunch?" 

"Oh, we gave it to Jeanie, hours ago. Thought you weren't 
coming." 

Jeanie was the house dog. It was a mess joke to threaten to 
give her my food if I was late for meals. I hunted round till 
I found where Pa had hidden my cold porridge. 

"You're up to some devilment," said Pa, watching me wolf 
the nasty stuff. 

"Why?" 

"Because you're grinning. You're enjo3ang something, and 
I know it's not that grub." 

I must be more careful I 



CHAPTER VIII 

IN WHICH WE BECOME THOUGHT-READERS 

HILL and I met daily in odd comers, to discuss our 
plans. The first step was obviously to get Hill 
adopted as my fellow medium. It would have been 
simple enough had Hill taken any prominent part in 
our seances, but all his work had been behind the scenes. He 
had been responsible for the manifestations, which was a task 
of an extremely private nature, so the Pimple had no acquaint- 
ance with him as a spookist. His sudden appearance as a 
medium might give rise to suspicion. 

Fortunately there was a way out of the difficulty which, if 
properly handled, would not only solve it but at the same time 
add to my reputation as a student of the occult in all its 
branches. For a couple of months past Hill and I had been 
secretly engaged on getting ready a leg-pull for the benefit of 
the camp wiseacres. Hill knew from his study of conjuring 
that stage telepathy was carried out by means of a code, and 
we set to work by trial and error to manufacture a code for 
our purposes. By the middle of January it was almost com- 
plete, and we had become fairly expert in its use. With the 
object of bewildering the camp. Hill then announced to a few 
believers in spooking that he had learned telepathy in Aus- 
tralia and would give lessons to one pupil who was really in 
earnest. As a preliminary to the lessons, he said, the pupil 
must undergo a complete fast for 72 hours, to get himself into 
a proper receptive state. Most of us had had enough of fasting 
during the last few years so his offer resulted, as we hoped it 
would, in only one application for lessons in the telepathic art 
— that one being, of course, from myself. For three days I 
took no meals in my Mess, and I made a parade of the reason. 
To aU appearances I was fasting religiously. People told me 

100 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR loi 

I was getting weaker, and that the whole thing was absurd. 
Which shows what the imagination can do; because three times 
a day I fed sumptuously on tinned food (a luxury in Yozgad) 
and eggs, in the privacy of Hill's room. At the conclusion of 
the "fast" Hill "tested" me, and announced to the few believ- 
ers interested that I had attained the necessary receptive state, 
and that he had accepted me as a pupil. 

This was the position when the Commandant was hooked, 
and after some discussion we saw how to use it to the greatest 
advantage. We did not let the grass grow under our feet. 
As luck would have it, there was an orderlies' concert on the 
afternoon of February 2nd — ^just three days after my interview 
with the Commandant. Hill was down on the programme to 
give his usual conjuring entertainment. When his turn came 
to perform, he made a carefully rehearsed speech from the 
platform. He said (which was quite true) that he had injured 
his finger. He had found at the last moment that his finger 
was too stiff to allow him to perform, but rather than leave a 
gap in the programme he bad decided to alter the nature of 
his show at a moment's notice. 

"As some of you know," he said, "I once underwent a 
course of telepathy, or thought-reading, in Australia. Within 
the last fortnight an officer in this camp went through the 
painful preliminary of a three days' fast, and became my 
pupil. Possibly because of his previous knowledge of the 
occult, he has progressed at a surprising rate, and, although 
he considers himself far from ready for a public exhibition, he 
has very kindly consented to help me in this predicament. 
{Loud applause.) I ask you to remember that he is only a 
beginner, and if our show turns out a complete failure you 
will, I am sure, give him credit for his attempt." 

Heaven knows it takes little enough to interest an audience 
composed of prisoners of war. During the intervals between 
our concerts and pantomimes and dramatic performances the 
crowded camp was driven half crazy by fellows "practising" 
for the next entertainment on landings and in bedrooms, and 
all over the place. We knew every tune, and every mistake 
it was possible to make in singing it, long before the "first" 
(and usually only) "night." And especially did we abhor to 
distraction the clog-dance practices. Yet, when the great day 



ii02 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

came, we enjoyed every turn, and shouted vociferous and most 
genuine applause. Everything was appreciated, from the scen- 
ery painted on old Turkish newspapers to the home-made in- 
struments of the band. "As good as the Empire," or "Drury 
Lane can't beat that," we would say. 

The camp knew nothing of the long hours Hill and I had 
spent together asking and answering such innocent sounding 
code questions as, ''Quickly! What have I here?" "Tell me 
what this is?" "Now, do you know what this article is?" and 
so on. It was something new for them to get an apparently 
imrehearsed show. The fact that the audience contained a 
number of converts to spiritualism assisted us greatly in ob- 
taining the necessary atmosphere of credulous wonder. Hill 
walked through the audience, asking me (blindfolded on the 
platform and "in a semi-hypnotic state") to name the various 
articles handed to him, to quote the numbers on banknotes, to 
read the time on watches, to identify persons touched. Our 
failures were few enough to be negligible — not more than half 
a dozen in all — and our successes were numerous, and some- 
times (as when Slim Jim produced a stump of a candle from 
the "cag" in his pockets) startling. Naturally, in the end, we 
were "as good as the Zanzigs," and so on. A few suspected a 
code, and said so, but were utterly in the dark as to how such 
a code could be arranged.^ Others were simply bewildered. 
And still others, and among them none more ardently than 
the Pimple, professed themselves entirely satisfied that here at 
last was genuine telepathy and nothing less. We learned after- 
wards that the Pimple left the concert before its close to in- 
form the Commandant of the supernatural marvels he had 
witnessed. 

On the evening of the same day (February 2nd, 19 18), the 
Pimple came round for his seance. He asked that it shoifld 
be as private as possible. It was therefore arranged that only 
Mundey and Edmonds should be present in addition to myself 
and the Pimple. There was, of course, no mention of Hill. 

The seance began in the usual manner. After a few ques- 
tions and answers, the Pimple asked and obtained permission 

*For the benefit of the curious the code-system is given in 
Appendix III. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 103 

from the Spook to read out a written statement. It was as 
follows:^ 

''There is a treasure in the Schoolhouse. A man came from 
"Damascus and related to an acquaintance of mine the follow- 
"ing facts: (i) Before the Armenians were driven out of Yoz- 
"gad the wife of the owner of this Schoolhouse with a little 
"boy and one or two other relations went at night to the gar- 
"den of the Schoolhouse and dug out a hole and buried about 
"£18,000. He is not certain of the amount. There were 
"jewels. A few days after, I think, they were all 'sent away.' 
"(ii) This man, hearing this news, escaped from Damascus, 
"where he was a soldier, came here, and told this to my ac- 
"quaintance but as he did not know exactly the place his 
"information was of little value, (iii) If what this man says 
"is true, will you kindly tell me the place? I make the fol- 
"lowing propositions to the three persons here to-night: 

"(a) I promise to give each of them 10% of all the money 
and valuables if they accept these propositions; 

"(b) Or I offer 30% as they choose, with certain restric- 
tions as to the keeping of the money for the safety 
of all imtil the war ends." 

It was needless to ask why he applied to the Spook for in- 
formation instead of to the woman who had buried the treasure. 
She was dead — long since — very probably tortured to death in 
a vain effort to get her to reveal the whereabouts of her wealth. 
For the late occupants of the Schoolhouse had been wealthy 
people, and after they were "sent away" (we all knew what 
that meant) nothing had been found. Behind the bald, cold- 
blooded statement which the Pimple read out there lay a great 
tragedy, the tragedy of the Armenians of Yozgad. The butch- 
ery had taken place in a valley some dozen miles outside the 

* Complete records of all seances between February 2nd and 
April 26th were kept and smuggled out of Turkey. The above is a 
verbatim copy of the Pimple's statement. From this point to Chap- 
ter XXIV. (where our written record ends) all questions put to, 
and answers given by, the Spook are quoted from these records. 
So, too, are the letters to and from the Turkish War Office at Con- 
stantinople. We have to thank Capt. O'Farrell, Capt. Matthews, 
Capt. Freeland, Capt. Miller, Lieut. Nightingale, Lieut. Hickman 
and others for the preservation of our documents and photographs. 



I04 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

town. Amongst our sentries were men who had slain men, 
women, and children till their arms were too tired to strike. 
They boasted of it amongst themselves. And yet, in many 
ways, they were pleasant fellows enough. 

The mentality of the Turk is truly surprising. Supposing 
I had the supernatural power which the Interpreter and Com- 
mandant thought I possessed, was it likely that I, presumably 
a Christian and avowedly an enemy, would be ready to help 
them to the property of fellow Christians whom the Turks had 
most foully murdered? Yet they had put the proposal to me 
without a hint of shame. Englishmen are often upbraided with 
their inability to understand the Oriental. But sometimes it 
is the Oriental who fails to understand the Englishman. 

*'I revoke all claim to a share in this treasure," I said. ''As 
a medium, I am not allowed to gain." 

Then we turned to the board for advice as to procedure. 
The Spook promised to tell all, but warned us it would take 
time. It instructed us to get proper mediums and place them 
in a proper environment. It indicated Hill as the best medium 
in the camp, but informed us that he was afraid to "spook," 
and had kept his powers dark. 

Next day the Pimple came to me beaming. He reported 
having approached Hill, who with great reluctance had con- 
fessed to being a medium. Hill had not seemed anxious to 
take part in a seance, but under great pressure had agreed 
to do so. The Pimple was greatly pleased. He did not know 
how carefully Hill's reluctance had been rehearsed. He re- 
ported to the Commandant that thanks to a hint from the 
Spook and his own persuasive powers, he had secured the best 
possible man to help me in my task. Nothing was further from 
his thoughts than that Hill and I were confederates. 



CHAPTER IX 

HOW THE SPOOK WROTE A MAGIC LETTER AND ARRANGED OUS 

ARREST 

^ H ^HE Thought-Reading Exhibition had aroused great 
I interest. A number of our fellow prisoners wanted 
1^ Hill to give them lessons, but most of them fought 
shy of the three days' starvation which was the neces- 
sary preliminary. A few — amongst them some of our best 
friends in camp — offered to undergo the fast, and Hill had all 
his work cut out to persuade them not to. He finally resorted 
to the plea that he could not undertake more than one pupil 
at a time. The exhibition had one good result. Hearing Hill 
explain that my progress in telepathy was being hampered by 
lack of privacy, Doc. O'Farrell placed his Dispensary at our 
disposal for our experiments. As a quid pro quo we promised 
that he should be taken on as the next pupil as soon as my 
education was completed. 

The Dispensary was a tiny room over the Majors' wood- 
store. It was exactly the place we needed. Here we could 
meet without fear of interruption. Everybody knew we were 
studying the problems of telepathy, which was a sufficient ex- 
planation of our constant hobnobbing, both for the Turks and 
for our fellow-prisoners. So nobody suspected us of plotting 
to escape, as they would infallibly have done had there been no 
ready-made reason assignable for our conferences. Here, then, 
we discussed our plans, and here the Pimple came from time to 
time to get the benefit of our discussions in the form of oracular 
utterances by the Spook. 

The policy pursued by Hill and myself throughout our long 
campaign against the Turk was always to concentrate on the 
obstacle immediately ahead, and while taking every reasonable 
precaution about the future, not to trouble about it overmuch 
until we had crossed the nearest fence and seen what lay on the 

105 



io6 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

other side. In pursuance of our object not to implicate the 
others, we decided that the first thing to be done was to get 
moved out of the camp. But the flitting must be so arranged 
that the camp would not suspect we ourselves had planned it, 
while the Commandant, on the other hand, must be equally 
convinced that we had no other motive than to find the treasure- 
We felt that escape from separate confinement outside the 
camp would make it difficult for the Commandant to charge 
our' comrades with complicity, and at the same time it would 
make it easier for us to devote our whole energies to getting a 
strangle-hold on Kiazim Bey. The danger of discovery would 
be lessened by more than half; for we stood in greater fear of 
the detective abilities of our fellow-prisoners than of those of 
the Turk. Discovery by either would have meant our being 
stopped.- 

While reconnoitring the ground up to this obstacle — and we 
did so very carefully — it struck us that there was no reason 
why the move itself should not be so engineered as to become 
the direct cause of our release by the Turks. Johnny Turk is 
a queer mixture of brutality and chivalry. It was quite on 
the cards that if we could get the Commandant to commit a 
glaring faux pas at our expense, and if we could at the same 
time get the British or neutral authorities to represent the 
matter to Constantinople, the Turkish War Office might com- 
pensate us by granting us a compassionate release. Indeed, 
such a release had already been granted to an officer named 
Fitzgerald who had been wrongfully thrown into prison early 
in the War. So it was not entirely a castle in Spain that we 
were building. 

We decided to induce Kiazim Bey to sentence us to a term 
of imprisonment, under conditions as harsh as we could get him 
to impose. There was little chance, however, that he would 
so sentence us wrongfully; he stood in too great a fear of his 

* The Senior Officer of the camp met me after I had regained my 
liberty. "Why on earth did you keep us in the dark, Jones?" he 
asked ; "if you had only told us what you were up to we would have 
helped you." "Would you, sir?" I replied. "I put it to you frankly: 
had we gone to you in February and said we were planning to do 
the things which we actually did, you would_ undoubtedly have re- 
garded it as impossible, and used your authority to stop us." "Yes," 
he admitted, after a moment's thought, "you're right. I would." 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 107 

own War Office to do that. But perhaps we might succeed in 
getting him to do so on a charge which to everyone but himself 
was manifestly and on the face of it absurd. If there is one 
thing the Young Turk desires it is to be regarded by Europe 
as civilized, and if there is one thing he fears it is the ridicule 
of civilization. If we could arrange something, the publication 
of which would render him a laughing-stock in the eyes of 
Europeans, the Young Turk Government . at Constantinople 
would gladly either cut our throats to ensure our silence, or 
grant us a compassionate release to prove that they had the 
civilized standpoint and to throw the blame on the local sub- 
ordinate. We thought it was about an even chance which 
course they would pursue, but decided that the risk was worth 
while. 

Our talks were long and earnest. We examined and re- 
jected scores of possibilities. And we finally decided, first, 
to aim at being "jugged" without cause or trial; or, failing 
that, to get ourselves sentenced to imprisonment, after a public 
trial, on a charge of obtaining War news by telepathic com- 
munications. I knew I could beat the Turkish censor and get 
details of the charge and sentence to England, and if this 
charge was not absurd enough to galvanize our War Office or 
the Dutch Embassy into protest, we would give up all hope of 
outside assistance bringing us our compassionate release, and 
rely, as Mr. Smiles advises good boys to do, on Self-Help. 

It took exactly a month to achieve our aim. The first "Dis- 
pensary Seance" was held on February 6th, 19 18. On March 
6th, on the charge of obtaining and sending military informa- 
tion by means of telepathy. Hill and I were arrested, tried in 
the presence of brother officers, and condemned to solitary con- 
finement until the end of the War. 

i* The genius that brought about this desirable state of affairs 
was the Spook. A verbatim report of every question and 
answer set to, and given by, our spirit-guide between February 
6th and the date we left Yozgad is before me as I write. It is 
a transcript of the records carefully kept by the Pimple, who 
had read "Raymond" (a copy reached our camp just about this 
time), and by our advice modelled his attitude on *Jiat of Sir 
Oliver Lodge. Indeed, except in the matter of fame, the two 
Jiad something in common, for in civil life the Pimple also 



io8 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

called himself a Professor. So, thanks to his industry and 
"scientific methods" of research, it is possible to give an ac- 
curate summary of the doings and sayings of our "Control," 
and where necessary to quote its exact words. For the his- 
torian the scientific method has much to commend itself. 

Our Spook began by greeting Hill \dth every symptom of 
friendliness. The glass did not exactly "caress" him — we had 
not yet reached such advanced proficiency — but it spelled out 
its delight at the meeting, and it ignored the Pimple. It went 
on to warn us we were making an improper use of the Ouija. 
It was wrong to seek gain, wrong and dangerous, especially for 
"dear C. W. H." Under the best possible conditions the dis- 
covery of the treasure would take a long time, possibly many 
months. And the present conditions were hopeless. 

"You must live together," said the Spook to Hill and my- 
self, "so that your two minds become as one mind and your 
thoughts are one thought. Also it is most necessary that it 
be all kept profoundly secret. Above all you must be free from 
other thought influences; . . . the other prisoners uncon- 
sciously project their thoughts between you, thus preventing 
unity. You ought to be removed elsewhere. Even prison would 
be better for you than this. It would be easier to communi- 
cate if you were alone. In one or two months you could at- 
tain more rapid methods, such as direct speech, but it is hope- 
less without privacy and peaceful surroundings. Remember I, 
too, have immense difficulties on this side. Ask them" {i.e., 
the Commandant and the Pimple) "either to give up all hope 
of my help in finding the treasure, or do what I say and remove 
you." And It again suggested we should be clapped into 
prison. 

Then Moise dropped into French, which he imagined neither 
Hill nor I understood. 

"Remove? Demenager pour de bon, or go for a sitting?" 
. ."Pour de bon, mon ami," the Spook replied. "C'est absolu- 
ment necessaire." He added that it was necessary in order 
that the mediums "might get into tune." Without being "in 
tune" they could not find the treasure. 

This was enough for one sitting, so the "force began to go," 
as the Spiritualists put it, and the Pimple found himself con- 
fronted with the delicate task of breaking the news to the 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 109 

mediums. It must be borne in mind that, as is usual with all 
mediums of any standing, Hill and I were always "absolutely 
ignorant" of what had been said by the Spook until the Pimple 
saw fit to read it out to us. At times it was a matter of no 
little difficulty to avoid displaying our knowledge of what had 
occurred. When, for example, the Pimple had omitted a nega- 
tive, or in some other simple way altered the whole tenor of 
the Spook's order, it was extremely tempting to correct him. 
But that would have been fatal. We learned to endure his 
mistakes in silence. 

The Pimple told us, very gently and very sympathetically, 
that the Control wanted to put us in prison. Hill and I were, 
of course, suitably horror-stricken — but we gradually allowed 
ourselves to be persuaded to endure even prison if necessary. 
For we admitted that there seemed to be no other way of 
finding the treasure, and that I was pledged to the Command- 
ant to do my best. Besides, Hill let out casually, he had had 
one experience in Australia of thwarting a Spook's wishes, and 
not for all the wealth of the Indies would he risk such a thing 
again. Moise naturally asked what the experience was, but 
Hill could only cover his face with his hands and shudder. It 
was TOO DREADFUL to be told. 

So insistent had been the Pimple in persuading us to adopt 
the Spook's plan that we thought we had won our point in the 
first round. But we had reckoned without the Commandant. 
It has already been indicated that we knew nothing of that 
gentleman's real character. He revealed it now. An auto- 
crat and a tyrant to all under his sway, he was the most 
abject slave of his own superiors. The post of Commandant 
in a Prisoner of War Camp was highly coveted, hard to obtain, 
and correspondingly easy to lose. To lose it might mean hav- 
ing to face the music at the front. Bimbashi Kiazim Bey did 
not want that. So next day the Pimple explained to us with 
tears in his eyes that the Commandant would not, on any ac- 
count, risk his position by putting us into prison without cause. 
He feared a reprimand from Constantinople. 

We replied that it must be prison or nothing, for who were 
we to improve upon the suggestions of our Control? No, we 
certainly would not assault a sentry or do anything that would 
justify our conviction. That was not a fair proposition to us., 



110 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

But we would go to jail, without any fuss, if he cared to send us. 

Thus we struggled with the Pimple for eleven days, but in 
the end saw it was hopeless. The Commandant would forego 
the treasure rather than risk anything. He had not yet ac- 
quired the faith in us which made him, later on, snap his fingers 
at his own War Office. The furthest he was willing to go was 
to re-open what was known as "the Colonel's house," a build- 
ing, now empty, which had formerly formed part of the camp. 
Hill and I could then go and stay there. But if other prisoners 
also wanted to go, the Commandant would not prevent them, 
as it would look suspicious. He must not show favouritism 
as it would get him into trouble! 

The Cook and the Pimple danced with rage — especially the 
Cook — over their superior's pusillanimity. But there it was. 
To tell the truth. Hill and I were equally disgusted. We 
wanted prison. We wished heartily that the Cook was our 
Commandant! But we pretended to be grateful to Kiazim 
Bey for taking up such a bold stand against carrying out the 
Spook's wishes. We told the Pimple that we ourselves would 
never have dared to do so, knowing, as we did, the Power of 
the Control. We sent him our thanks, and as he had incurred 
so much danger on our behalf, to save us from the vileness of 
a Turkish jail, we allowed ourselves to be persuaded to under- 
go a little danger for him. We would hold one more seance 
and put to the Spook his suggestion about the re-opening of 
the Colonel's house. 

The seance was held in the Dispensary on the 17th of Feb- 
ruary. Hill and I had made our preparations with considerable 
care. 

The Spook repeated its suggestion of prison, Moise ex- 
plained that it was impossible, and suggested the Colonel's 
house, at the same time pointing out that other prisoners might 
want to go there and that we saw no way of preventing them. 

On the "Raymond" model, the next part of the seance is 
quoted verbatim from our records. 

Spook. "If I tell you how to do it, will you obey?" 

Moi'sE. "If it is possible and does not involve too much 

hardship. Will you please tell us what we are to do?" 

Spook. "First, in order to conceal from others the re4 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR iir 

reason of the mediums being placed apart and to safeguard the 
Superior, they will be formally arrested." 

Moi'sE. "My objection to that is the Superior cannot arrest 
them without excuse," 

Spook. "Moise must say he found a letter incriminating 
them." 

MoisE. "Yes, but the objection to that is, supposing Colonel 
Maule, the Senior Officer (of the camp) asks to see the letter?" 

Spook. "If I show my power, will you cease arguing?" 

Mo'iSE (in alarm). "Are you going to manifest, or do us 
any harm?" 

Spook. "No. Merely a wonderful thing." 

MoisE. "Yes. We will be quite willing to see that." 

Spook (emphatically). "If I do this you must obey." 

Moi'sE. "It will not prevent Colonel Maule asking to see 
the letter." 

Spook. "It will satisfy Col. Maule and solve your diffi- 
culty." 

Moi'sE. "Very good. Please tell us what we are going to 
do?" 

Spook. "Take a clean sheet of paper." 

MoiSE (picking up a half sheet of notepaper out of a num- 
ber that were lying about) . "Here is one." 

Spook. "Examine it." 

Moise. "There is a watermark and the words 'English 
Manufacture' stamped." 

Spook. "Each of you fold it once squarely, with the sun." 

(Moi'se folded it, handed it to Hill, who again folded it, and 
handed it to me. I folded it for the third time and placed it 
on the table. All this was done openly, above the table, in 
broad daylight.) 

Moi'sE. "We have done it." 

Spook. "Next let Moi'se hold it on his head." 

(Picking up the paper between finger and thumb I handed 
it to Moi'se.) 

Mo'isE. "In which hand? With or without cap?" 

Spook. "Left. Without cap." 

(Mo'ise removed his balaclava — an English-made one, no 
doubt stolen from one of our parcels.) 

Mo'i'sE. "I have put it on my head" (holding it there). 



112 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Spook. "This is the letter you found, remember." 

Moi'sE (after a pause, during which the glass moved violently 
in circles and the mediums grew more and more exhausted). 
"May I take it off now?" 

Spook. "Yes." 

MoisE. "May I open it?" 

Spook. "Have you promised to obey?" 

Moi'sE. "We all promised whatever we can to obey it." 

Spook, "Open it." 

(Note by Moise in record! "Both mediums under very high 
strain.") 

MoisE (in great excitement, seeing the paper was now 
written on). "May I read it?" 

Spook. "Yes." 

This is what the Pimple read out, written in a good feminine 
hand: 

"I think the experiment has been successful. Last night at 
the stated time we received a telepathic message through two 
fellow-prisoners. It said Torces being sent South from Cau- 
casus.' Let me know if this was the exact message sent. If 
it is correct there is no need to incur further danger of dis- 
covery by writing messages. The rest of our arrangements can 
be made by telepathy. The mediums have been sworn to 
secrecy and can be absolutely trusted. Put your reply in the 
usual place. IMPORTANT. ZKZVOCZHUFGCGCAVYH- 
CYACAKLRMTUODUFUHIZLTOEPCCV." ^ 

When this was read aloud to us by the Pimple, Hill and I 
grew greatly alarmed, and questioned the Spook. 

Jones (in alarm). "Can Hill and I withdraw, because this 
might do us harm?" 

Spook. "If you withdraw now you are doomed." 

Jones (much agitated). "I will not withdraw. What are 
we to do?" 

Spook. "Obey." 

(Note by Moise: Both mediums were cold, giddy, and 
shivering at this point.) 

*This is really a code sentence (code-word "Bonhil," code Play- 
fair). It was put in for our own protection should things go seri- 
ously against us at any future time. Decoded it reads : "Take note 
this is a leg pull against both Turks and camp." 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 113 

The Spook went on writing. Moi'se, who was recording the 
letters touched by the glass, suddenly gave an exclamation of 
surprise. 

"The Spook says this is all true," he said to us. "It says 
this letter is word for word the same as one which has actually 
been sent." 

Hill and I simulated great agitation. 

"I know it is true," I replied, "that is why we wanted to 
withdraw!" 

"But I thought this letter was merely an invention of the 
Spook," said Moi'se. 

'T wish it was," I said, "for he has given away what we 
had intended to keep as a deep secret, as it involves others." 

"Jones and I got that telepathic message about the Caucasus 
troops last night," said Hill. 

"This becomes very serious and very complicated," said the 
Pimple. 

"I know it does," I said. "Haven't I tried to withdraw? 
But the Spook threatens us, and we can't! What are we to 
do?" 

"If Moi'se will keep quiet about what we have said," Hill 
suggested, "perhaps the Commandant will still think it all an 
invention of the Spook's." 

"Could you delete from your record that last sentence where 
the Spook says it is all true?" I asked. 

"Yes," said Mo'ise, and drew his pencil lightly through it. 

"And you promise not to tell the Commandant we have 
really been working this telepathy business with somebody 
outside the camp, won't you? We fear he will be seriously 
angry and really punish us. If it wasn't for the Spook's threats 
we would stop now!" 

The Pimple soothed our fears, gave us his promise — and 
broke it (as we hoped he would) as soon as the seance was 
ended. 

All this was not merely gratuitous by-play. We were making 
a strong bid to capture the Commandant's full belief and every 
step in the seance had been carefully planted beforehand. The 
manner in which the magic letter was written, in broad day- 
light and on a piece of paper selected by Mo'ise himself, seemed 
of itself something of a miracle. It was quite enough to im- 



114 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

press the Commandant with the belief that he was up against 
supernatural forces. (Of course it really was nothing more 
than an extremely fine specimen of Hill's sleight-of-hand. So 
deft were his movements that even I, who knew what to ex- 
pect, had missed seeing the actual substitution of the prepared 
letter for Moi'se's blank paper, which had been "forced" on 
him, watermark and all, much as one ''forces" the choice of a 
card.) 

Then the matter of the magic letter, if true, was of extreme 
importance to the Commandant, for it indicated that amongst 
his prisoners of war were two mediums capable of sending and 
receiving messages of military importance. Our agitation, our 
attempt at withdrawal, our confession to the Pimple and our 
request that he should hide from the Commandant the fact 
that the contents were really true — all these were certain to be 
reported to Kiazim Bey, and we hoped that our anxiety for 
him to consider the contents of the letter as pure spiritistic 
fiction would have exactly the opposite effect. 

Once he believed the contents of the letter were true, he 
must necessarily conclude that Hill and I were the tools of the 
mysterious agency which had written it and not vice versa. 
So we pretended It had given away a secret which we had 
wished to be kept hidden, and which endangered our safety. 
The central idea on which our whole plan pivoted, and on 
which not only our success but our very safety would depend, 
was that we were mere mouthpieces of the Spook, unconscious 
of what was being said through us and quite incapable of al- 
tering or adding to it of our own will. The Commandant must 
learn to treat us as impersonally as he would treat a telephone 
on his office table; 

After the interlude of the confession, the Pimple asked the 
Spook to explain what was to be done with this mysterious 
letter, and how it was going to attain for us the seclusion 
necessary for "our thoughts to become one thought, and our 
minds one mind." 

The Spook gave full instructions. It pointed out that the 
letter referred to two mediums who had received a telepathic 
message. It reminded the Turks that Hill and I had recently 
given a public exhibition of telepathy. We were known as 
telepathists to the whole camp, and there were no others. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 115 

Therefore we two must be the mediums indicated. And it in- 
formed them that the camp beheved in our powers as thought- 
readers and thought-transmitters, and would admit that belief 
if properly taxed with it, thereby justifying the Commandant 
in sentencing us to solitary confinement. 

The obvious course was, therefore, for the Commandant to 
set about obtaining this admission of belief, without the camp 
knowing beforehand the purpose for which he required it. The 
Spook advised him to set a trap, and showed him how to do it. 
He should say he was interested in telepathy ,^ and having heard 
of the recent exhibition, he would like to talk over the matter 
with the two principals and with any other officers who cared 
to come. The Spook suggested that the Doctor in particular, 
as a "man of science," should be invited. Having got the com- 
pany into the office, the Commandant would question them as 
to, the possibility of telepathy. He would find that they all 
considered it perfectly possible, and that they regarded Jones 
and Hill as exponents of the new science. On the strength of 
this confession of faith he could produce the Spook letter and 
ask of Jones and Hill if the telepathic message therein referred 
to had been received by them. They would admit having re- 
ceived it. He would then demand the names of their confed- 
erates, which they would refuse. He could then formally 
charge them with being in telepathic communication on mili- 
tary matters with persons outside, and as their fellow-officers 
had already given evidence that Jones and Hill could send and 
receive thoughts, he could convict and sentence them without 
any fear of local disapprobation or of unpleasant consequences 
from Constantinople. "If you do not carry out the plan," said 
the Spook in conclusion, "there will be trouble." 

"As a matter of fact," the Pimple said, buttoning the record 
of the seance inside his coat, "you and Hill can be honestly 
tried for obtaining this war news. You have been doing it, 
so the Spook is not telling lies." 

"But don't tell the Commandant that," I begged. 

"You are again doing as in Kut," said Moise knowingly. 

"As in Kut?" I was genuinely at a loss for the moment. 

"Yes! When Townshend employed you to read the minds 
of our Turkish generals," said Moise, resurrecting Freak's lie 
of six months before. 



ii6 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"The devil!" I exclaimed. "Who told you that?" 

The Pimple looked very proud of himself. "Never mind," 
he said. "I, too, know things." 

"I wish I was out of this," Hill said. "It is too dangerous. 
I would like to withdraw from the whole business." 

The Pimple laughed at him. "But you dare not, you fear 
too much the Spook 1" 



CHAPTER X 

HOW WE WERE TRIED AND CONVICTED FOR TELEPATHY 



1 



■^HERE followed a delightfully busy fortnight for 
Hill and myself. We made a minute study of a 
large book on mental diseases, purloined from the 
Doctor's library, and improved our minds with other 
medical lore anent an illness to which the Commandant was 
subject. Under a specious plea we borrowed from Spink an 
Armenian-French dictionary — a treasured possession which he 
kept hidden under a movable plank in the floor of his room. 
Spink was an industrious and painstaking youth. With a view 
to a possible escape, and with the aid of George Sorrow's 
Lavengro, he had transliterated the Armenian alphabet. This 
was to prove most useful. He had also drawn up an Armenian 
phrase-book, which I studied with such diligence and profit that 
later on the Spook of the murdered owner of the treasure 
appeared and spoke to us in the Armenian tongue! But for 
the present the use of the dictionary was to enable Hill to 
manufacture two brief but extremely interesting Armenian 
documents. These we enclosed, along with some ashes from 
our charcoal brazier and two Turkish gold sovereigns, in two 
small tin cases. The cases were buried by Hill, three miles 
apart, while he was out ski-ing. As the Ski-Club was also due 
to Spink's initiative, we owe that ornament of the Indian Public 
Works Department a deep debt of gratitude. 

While Hill was busy with his document-making and his 
burying, it was my duty to inculcate a proper respect for 
telepathy in the chosen witnesses of the forthcoming trial. 
Doc. O'Farrell was already converted. He would do "as he 
was" for one witness at our trial; but we threw in a private 
exhibition to make all secure. Almost any of the juniors 
would do for a second. We also required at least two field 

117 



Ii8 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

officers, preferably with Red Tabs, and one of the two ought 
to have an official position in the camp. A couple of days of 
the Socratic method convinced Peel. A ''practical experiment" 
in which Hill conveyed to me "by telepathy" that he had 
been shown a black-handled knife when two miles away from 
the camp, satisfied the Adjutant, Gilchrist, who owned and 
had shown the knife. We had our four "witnesses" for the 
trial ready, and knew they would all swear to the possibility 
of telepathy in all genuineness. En passant, it is worthy of 
remark that one witness who believes that what he says is true 
(though it may be as false as Ananias's best effort) is worth 
ten of a conscious liar in any Court of Law. 

Then, in case the Turks saw fit to test the accuracy of the 
Spook's assertion concerning the telepathic receipt of the mes- 
sage about the movement of troops from the Caucasus, it be- 
came necessary to receive such a message at a seance. Mundey 
and Edmonds, both true believers, were victimized. We re- 
ceived the message in their presence, and at the bidding of 
the Spook gave our words of honour to keep its source a secret. 
This "word of honour" came in most usefully later on. 

Lastly, there were two men in the camp — Bartin and Night- 
ingale — who knew the secret of our telepathic code. It was 
quite possible that if the Turks arrested us for telepathy these 
two men would expose the code in order to obtain our release. 
We could easily have trusted them with the whole story, but 
on our principle to implicate nobody and tell nobody — until 
it became absolutely necessary — we decided to keep quiet. A 
hint to say nothing, whatever happened, was sufficient for these 
two loyal friends. 

We were now ready for anything the Commandant might 
care to do — the worse the better, within limits. But the Com- 
mandant was by no means ready to begin. Up to a point our 
plotting and lying had been completely successful. He ac- 
cepted without question the truth of the information contained 
in the magic letter, but he was doubtful about the future and 
he wanted to make himself perfectly safe with his own War 
Office. It took three more seances to satisfy him, for he had 
piles of questions to ask the Spook. Must he report the trial 
to Constantinople, and if so what should he say? What would 
the camp think? What would Colonel Maule say in his month- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 119 

ly sealed letter to Headquarters? What if the War Office 
wanted to punish the mediums more severely? What was the 
sentence to be? How many days, or weeks, or months? How 
severe the conditions of imprisonment? Supposing the War 
Office asked where the letter was found, or who found it?. 
Supposing the prisoners should write home about the matter, 
was he to destroy their letters? What was the best day of 
the week to begin on? And so forth and so on. The Spook 
solved each and all of these problems in a most satisfactory 
way. It dictated his report to Constantinople.^ It promised 
to reveal within a month of the trial the secret of how the 
treasure was buried. It promised to safeguard the Comman- 
dant from any possible punishment by his superiors. And It 
threatened in most bloodthirsty terms to be avenged if we did 
not adopt the plan over which It had spent so much thought 
and care. 

At the beginning of each month our Senior Officer was per- 
mitted to send to Turkish Headquarters at Constantinople a 
sealed letter. This the local Yozgad authorities were not al- 
lowed to censor. The object was to give prisoners the oppor- 
tunity of criticizing the conduct of the Commandant direct to 
the Turkish War Office. The Commandant was anxious that 
this letter should be sent off before we began operations. With 
any luck, we might have found the treasure before the month 
was out and the next letter sent. Hill and I would then be 
back in camp and Colonel Maule would have no cause to 
grouse about our treatment. So the Commandant argued. Hill 
and I were fairly confident that so long as our imprisonment 
did not affect the comfort of the rest of the camp in general, 
nothing much would be said about it, however absurd the 
charge against us might be. We would be allowed to "dree oor 
ain weird." But we did not say so to the Commandant. We 
agreed with him that, in view of the "solidarity of the British 
Empire," and the curious habit British Senior Officers have 
of interesting themselves in the welfare of their juniors, this 
was a bit of a problem. So we left it to the Spook to answer. 
The Spook decided that the best date to begin operations was 

*This report was sent by the Commandant to the Turkish War 
Office on iSvh March, 1918, and was the first of a series of official 
documents dictated by the Spook. 



I20 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

that immediately following the day on which Colonel Maule 
posted his monthly letter. 

On Saturday, March 2nd, 1918, Colonel Maule sent his 
sealed letter up to the Commandant's office. On March 3rd 
Hill and I asked for and received from the Interpreter the 
full "score" of the forthcoming trial — a lengthy written docu- 
ment embodying all the instructions of the Spook. We were 
asked to make certain we had our parts pat, and to reply if 
we agreed to the programme. I saw the Pimple that evening 
in the lane, and told him we agreed, but did not return his 
written instructions. These we intended to keep, for they 
would be valuable and irrefutable evidence of the complicity of 
the Turks in our designs. But Johnny Turk was risking noth- 
ing. The wily Oriental is thoroughly well aware of the fact 
that litera scripta manet. On March 4th the Cook came to 
our room and began fiddling with our stove. He made unin- 
telligible demands for a "tinnike." Then when no one was 
looking he slipped into my hands the following note, the origi- 
nal of which I still possess: 

"Dear Jones: 

"I send you the Cook under pretext of inspecting the 
stove and demanding a tobacco flat tin. Will you give him the 
Instructions I gave you yesterday to which you have agreed?, 

"Yours, 
"MoisE." 

To refuse would be to arouse suspicion and possibly upset 
all our plans. There was nothing for it but to hand over the 
evidence. 

On the same day — March 4th — the Pimple reported that 
Colonel Maule's letter had been consigned to the mercies of 
the Turkish Post Office. Hill and I went over our arrange- 
ments for the last time, and made certain we had left nothing 
undone. According to programme we were to be arrested next 
day. 

But March sth came and went. All day long Hill and I 
waited and longed for our arrest. It did not come. In the 
evening the Pimple arrived and informed us that the Com- 
mandant had been too busy taking part in the celebrations of 
the Russian Peace. We knew it for a lie. We knew that he 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 121 

was "ratting" at the last moment, that once more he was 
funking a possible reprimand from Constantinople. But it 
would never do to say so. Instead, we simulated joy at our 
reprieve. We said that with luck this would be the last of the 
unhappy affair, and that we were glad to be relieved of the 
burden. Then we expressed our earnest hope that the Spook 
would visit no punishment on the Commandant or the Pimple 
for their failure to obey. But after the Pimple had gone we 
raged together, up and down the lane and round and round 
the Hospital garden, till the sentries drove us indoors at dark. 
We both spent a miserable night. For it looked as if the War 
might last another twenty years — and our plan had failed. 

On the morning of March 6th, about 10.30 a.m., Moise 
came to us and complained that he had been "spooked," that 
the Commandant had been very angry with him; and that 
while pretending to be too unwell to carry out the programme, 
he really intended to postpone it for good and all, because of 
his fear of Constantinople. 

"I am certain," said the unhappy Pimple, *'that the Spook 
has put into his head ideas against me. Otherwise he could 
not have known. It is the beginning of our punishment for 
yesterday's delay. I know it. I am sure. And his turn will 
comel" Then he begged for one last seance to consult the 
Spook. 

"But what have you been up to, to make him angry?" I 
asked, as we walked together towards the Dispensary. 

The Pimple refused to admit that he had been up to any- 
thing, and called the Commandant "a jealous pig." Hill im- 
mediately winked at me. We let well alone, and stopped our 
pumping. 

We sat down to the spook-board. There had been no time 
for a special consultation, but this was likely to be our last 
chance and we must use it. 

Moise wrote down a question without uttering it, and slipped 
it under the board for the Spook to answer. This was awk- 
ward. At previous seances the Spook had shown its power of 
answering questions in this way. To-day, however, we were 
not prepared for the test. But I had managed to get a glimpse 
of one word as he wrote, and that word was suggestive. It was 
"pardon," 



122 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"No use begging pardon," said the Spook; "obey and BE- 
WARE 1" 

Then came a long pause, the glass remaining quite motion- 
less. Moise grew more and more impatient. 

"Please answer what to do," he said at last. 

For at least ten minutes there was no movement in the glass 
for I was thinking hard what to say, and could see no light. 
We told the Pimple that the glass felt "dead," as if there was 
no one there. He got more and more highly strung and ex- 
cited, and kept begging the Control to return. He threw a 
sheet of paper on to the board and asked the Control to write 
on it if he would not use the glass. As soon as the paper 
touched the board, the Control "manifested," and both Hill 
and I had our hands simultaneously dragged away from the 
glass by some invisible force. For some time we tried to get 
our fingers on the glass again, but were prevented by the in- 
visible agent. The Pimple's excitement rose to fever pitch as 
he watched the struggle. We became more and more exhaust- 
ed, and finally had to rest. 

"This is terrible," said Hill, mopping his brow. "I think 
we had better chuck it. The Control is poisonously angry, 
and Heaven knows what he may not do." 

The Pimple begged us to try once more. We did, and got our 
fingers on the glass without much difficulty. The Spook gave 
proof of his presence by moving the glass about. The neces- 
sary idea had come to us. 

"What will you do?" Moi'se asked. 

"I can but bring on the old pains," said the Spook. 

"What do you mean, please?" 

(This is where our study of the Commandant's disease, 
biliary colic, first came in useful.) 

"Vomiting," the Spook answered. "Vomiting! Shivers! 
Such agony that he will roll about and scream for mercy! He 
knows well, but I shall choose my own time. Unless orders are 
obeyed today I forbid my mediums to grant further sittings 
under penalty of madness to themselves. Good-bye." 

"How can I make the Commandant do it?" Moise asked. 

Before a reply was possible both mediums had their fingers 
again thrown from the glass and appeared to experience a sen- 
sation which the sitter in his notes describes briefly as "electric 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 123 

shock." The Control was obviously angry. Hill and I re- 
fused to venture any further, and we asked Moise to say so 
to the Commandant. Moise suggested that we should put our 
views in writing. We therefore wrote the Commandant a joint 
letter, in which we expressed our regret that he was unwell, and 
hoped he would be sufficiently recovered by the afternoon to 
begin the experiment. We ended by saying that in view of the 
Control's threats we could not (for our own sakes as well as 
for the sake of the Commandant) go any further in the matter 
unless it was put in hand that day. 

The Pimple hurried off with the letter and the record of the 
seance. 

"There goes our last chance, old chap," I said to Hill as 
soon as we were left alone. 'Tf that doesn't fetch him, we've 
failed." 

"Oh no," said Hill, "we can always smash up a sentry a bit. 
They'll lock us up quick enough for that. We can tell the 
Commandant privately we were spooked into doing it!" 

"Right-o!" I agreed. "We'll try that next. I want to 
biff that little beast with the top boots, anyway." 

"Mine's the Mulazim," said Hill. "He needs a thick ear. 
Do him good." 

Alone, I believe I would have thrown up the sponge, and 
resigned myself to growing grey in what looked like indefinite 
captivity. Hill's determination renewed my waning hopes. 
We began plotting again. 

We might have spared ourselves the trouble. The force of 
example proved a powerful incentive to obedience. The Com- 
mandant must have remembered how the Spook's threat of 
doom had brought Hill and myself to our knees when we 
wished to withdraw from the treasure-hunt, and how we had 
preferred to risk punishment from the Turk rather than the 
wrath of the Unknown. The prospect of a recurrence of his 
malady frightened him into action. At 2 p.m. the following 
note was brought to me by a sentry — (I again quote the 
original) : 

"Lieutenant Jones: 

"The Commandant should like to talk a little with you 
about thought-reading and telepathy. Will you ask a few 



124 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

officers to come up with you to the office in order to have a 
little show? 

"(Signed) for the Commandant, 
"The Interpreter — MoisE." 

We invited to accompany us the four officers whom we had 
long since marked down as suitable for this purpose. They 
all, accepted. Three of the four wrote down that same evening 
their recollections of what occurred. The following account is 
composed of an extract from each of the three independent 
reports. It shows how exactly "the little show" followed the 
instructions of the Spook. (The fourth witness, being might- 
ier with the sword than with the pen, refrained from com- 
mitting his impressions to paper.) 

(/ begin with an extract from Major Peel's accoimt) : 

"About 2.30 p.m. Lieut. Jones and Hill were sent for to the 
Commandant's office 'to talk about thought-reading,' and asked 
to bring with them one or two other officers. Jones asked me, 
Gilchrist, W. Smith and O'Farrell, who are all interested in the 
subject, to accompany him. Arrived at the Commandant's 
office, the Commandant shook hands with us and asked us to 
sit down. He then, through the Interpreter, asked Jones, 
'What is telepathy?' Jones explained, giving the Greek deri- 
vation, etc. 

"Commandant. 'How is it done?' 

"Jones. 'It is not known how it is done any more than it 
is known how electricity works, but it is similar to electricity 
in that there is g. sender and a receiver, and thought-waves 
can be sent by one and picked up by another. 

"Commandant (to O'Farrell). 'Is this a medical fact?' 
"O'Farrell. 'It is a well-known fact like mesmerism.' 
"Jones. 'You can ask Major Gilchrist if it is possible.' 

(/ now quote from the Doctor) : 

"Major Gilchrist then said that he sent a (telepathic) mes- 
sage down through Lieut. Hill from the top of South hill while 
out ski-ing, and when he returned Lieut. Jones told him the 
thought that Lieut. Hill sent. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 125 

"The Commandant asked what the object (thought of) was, 
and Major Gilchrist said it was a black knife. 

"The Commandant now became uneasy. He had the drawer 
of his desk a quarter open, and kept on putting his hand inside 
and fingering something. 

"I then said that another instance of thought transference 
was one he must have done himself. Say, for instance, you 
are in a room and you want to attract someone's attention; if 
you look at him hard, he will look around at you. 

"The Commandant now put his hand in the desk, drew out 
a half sheet of paper (I think quarto, such as is used in a 
Turkish Government Office) and handed it to Jones. 

"Lieut. Jones showed marked agitation while reading the 
note. He bit his lip, clenched his hands, and appeared as if 
he was suffering from extreme excitement, from a medical point 
of view, and as if he was going into a trance from a psycho- 
physical point of view." 

{The conclusion is taken from Major Gilchrist's narrative): 

"The Commandant . . . asked Lieut. Jones what he had 
to say. Jones said he did not deny that he had received and 
sent telepathic messages, and had received war news by these 
means. The Commandant then "asked him who his corre- 
spondent was. Jones refused to state. The Commandant then 
threatened Lieut. Jones with solitary confinement, without his 
orderly, and on bread and water, unless he told him who his 
correspondent was. He was given 24 hours to decide whether 
he would answer or not. Further, he was asked to give his 
word of honour not to communicate telepathically with anyone. 
This he said he could not do as he could not control his 
thoughts. When again informed that he must give the name 
of his correspondent or be court-martialled, and must .give his 
word of honour, Lieut. Jones replied, 'I have given my word of 
honour not to disclose my correspondent. If I break this word, 
what is the use of my word not to communicate?' The Com- 
mandant then said he would not put Lieut. Jones on bread and 
water until he had news from Constantinople, and again the 
Commandant said that his duty to his country made him insist 
on demanding the name of the correspondent. Lieut. Jones said 
that the Power his gift gave him also made it his duty to assist 



126 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

his country. Lieut. Jones demanded of the Commandant what 
charge he would be tried on, and asked, 'Am I to be tried on 
a charge of communicating telepathically with outsiders and 
not divulging the name when asked for it?' The Commandant 
assured him it was so. Lieut. Jones then stated that 24 or 
48 hours would not make any difference. He would not divulge 
the name. ..." 

We left the office for our 24 hours' grace, Hill and I secretly 
triumphant but outwardly indignant, and our four witnesses 
in a mood very different from that in which they had entered 
the sacred precincts. They were now much chastened. They 
had expected to see the Turk betray an intelligent interest in 
the mysterious phenomena of telepathy, which they themselves 
had found so engrossing. They had willingly imparted to him 
their own knowledge of the difficult problem: but they had 
never dreamed that their belief in telepathy would be turned 
to practical use against two of their fellow-officers, and they 
felt that, while in common with our two selves they had been 
very neatly trapped, their ingenuous little confession of faith 
had gone not a little way towards hanging us. 

"I never thought the Commandant had it in him to work 
out such a trap," said the Doc. 

"Yes," said Gilchrist, *'it was typically Oriental — and con- 
foundedly clever." 

Their respect for the Commandant's ability had suddenly 
risen to boiling-point. They could talk of little else as we 
walked back to camp. 

There is one point on which these three good fellows are 
silent in their written reports. I had committed what was in 
their eyes the unpardonable sin. I had given away my ac- 
complice — Hill. When to all appearance there was no need 
for it, I inculpated him with myself, and indeed went rather 
out of my way to mention his name. To them it was inex- 
plicable. It was conduct utterly unworthy of a British officer. 
They taxed me with it as soon as we reached camp, and asked 
why I had done such a thing. I looked as ashamed as possible. 
The trap, I said, had taken me unawares. I had lost my 
temper — and my head — and blurted out my confession, which 
involved Hill, before I knew where I was. Of their charity 
(I forget if Charity also is blind, but she ought to be), thex 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 127^ 

accepted this explanation, and tried to forgive me in their 
hearts. The truth, of course, was that it was the Commandant 
who had lost his head. He had confined his attention and his 
questions entirely to me. Hill was not asked anything. It was 
essential that the Commandant should have some ostensible 
reason for "jugging" us both together, and on the spur of the 
moment I had supplied his omission in the best way I could — 
by dragging in Hill's name and impUcating him with myselfj 




CHAPTER XI 

IN WHICH WE ARE PUT ON PAROLE BY OUR COLONEL, AND GO 

TO PRISON 

(HE news of our impending imprisonment and its cause 
roused the camp out of its usual lethargy, and pro- 
vided us with interesting sidelights into the character 
of our fellow-prisoners. That our more intimate 
friends should press forward with offers of help did not sur- 
prise us. It was what might be expected of them. Nor were 
we astonished when true believers, like Mundey, stated their 
readiness in the interests of science to incur any risk to get us 
out of our predicament or to send news of it home. It was still 
more delightful to find men on whom we had no manner of 
claim putting at our disposal money, food, clothing, anything 
and everything they had, and begging us to indicate any way 
in which they could be of assistance. Nothing could have been 
kinder or more unselfish tjian the attitude of these men, and 
our pleasantest memory of Yozgad is of the way in which they 
stood by us in our apparent distress. To us the most charm- 
ing instance was "Old 'Erb," who first obeyed the dictates of 
his kind heart and positively forced on us the loan of a large 
sum of money (he wanted to make it a gift), and then, like 
the sportsman he was, had the moral courage to take me aside, 
lecture me roundly on losing my head and giving Hill away, 
and advised me (if not for my own sake, then for that of my 
co-accused), ''to curb my tongue and my pride, and knuckle 
under to the Turk." I knew that in his heart he thought my 
conduct towards Hill despicable, and yet he helped us. 

But our experiences were not all as pleasant. Hardship and 
prison life bring out the worst as well as the best that is in 
a man. Many of us had grown selfish to a degree that can be 
imagined only by one who has gone through a long period of 

128 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 129 

privation and discomfort in the enforced company of his fel- 
low-men. To hide the fact would be to give a wholly false 
impression of the moral atmosphere of our camp, which was 
probably no better and no worse than others in Turkey. We 
had amongst us some who concentrated first, last, and always 
on their own comfort. *'Hell!" said one such gentleman, on 
learning that we had been sentenced to an indefinite term of 
solitary confinement, "we'll get no more parcels." And he 
cursed all spiritualists from Oliver Lodge downwards. Indeed, 
on the whole, we got from our fellows as many kicks as 
ha'pence. 

On the morning after the trial I was up betimes, packing 
in preparation for our imprisonment, and impatiently await- 
ing Hill's report. I hoped to hear that he had successfully 
withdrawn his parole not to escape. For this had been the 
object of the 24 hours' grace, which, like everything else that 
had happened at the ''little show," had been granted under 
instructions from the Spook. We had, of course, seen to it 
that the Commandant ascribed an entirely erroneous motive 
to the Spook's orders. He thought the object of the order was 
to impress the camp with the belief that he was giving us every 
possible chance. We knew better. The threat of imprison- 
ment away from the camp should prove an adequate excuse for 
Hill to withdraw his parole. 

Hill arrived about eleven o'clock. 

"Have you been on the mat yet?" he asked. 

I told him I had not, beyond being abused by some of my 
pals as a nuisance. 

"Well, / have!" said Hill. "I've just been had up before 
Q)lonel Maule and Colonel Herbert." 

"Did you get quit of your parole?" I asked. 

Hill pulled a long face and then burst out laughing. "Far 
from it," he said; "I never had a chance of mentioning it. 
The Colonel's got the wind up. He thinks the camp is in for 
a strafing. He told me I was always running the risk of 
getting the rest of them into trouble. This was the third time, 
he said, I had played the ass, and he gave me a proper dress- 
ing-down for getting you into a bad hole with what he called 
my hanky-panky tricks. I said I couldn't see anything hanky- 
panky in thought-reading. Then he asked me to give my 



I30 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

parole not to communicate with anyone outside by telepathy." 

"Did you give it?" I asked. 

"Lord, yesl What's the odds!" Hill was shaking with 
laughter. "Only I explained what a hard job it is to control 
thought-waves, so he said he would be satisfied with a promise 
not to send them out wilfully. I gave that!" 

Instead of getting rid of his old parole Hill had gone and 
got himself involved in a new one! The situation was grow- 
ing absurd. As soon as we could master our merriment — a 
task of no small difficulty — we went together to the gallant 
Colonel and asked for an interview. He led the way into his 
own bedroom. 

"Hill tells me," I said with great solemnity, "that you blame 
him for getting me into trouble over this telepathy business. 
I want to explain to you that I started my experiments long 
before I had anything to do with Hill. He is in no way to 
blame." 

"I am delighted to hear it," he answered. 

"On April 22nd," I explained, "I wrote to a friend in Eng- 
land, who is interested in spiritualism and telepathy, suggest- 
ing that on the first evening of each month we should hold 
simultaneous seances in England and in Yozgad to try and get 
into communication. As you may know, we here have held 
these seances on the first of each month, and have endeavoured 
to send and receive messages. It was not until these experi- 
ments had been in progress for nine months that Hill and I 
came together as spiritualists." 

"I see," said the Colonel; "but since you admit you began it, 
why won't you end it? Why can't you settle the matter in the 
way the Commandant has suggested, and give the Turks your 
parole not to send or receive any more thought-messages?" 

I was prepared for the question, and produced three letters 
from my correspondent in England, each of which quoted mes- 
sages concerning myself received through mediums in England. 
"Those are not amongst any of the messages I consciously 
sent," I explained, "but I distinctly remember thinking about 
at least one of the subjects he mentions. This shows that your 
ordinary thoughts are liable to be picked up. Now, suppos- 
ing I give the Commandant my parole, and then this cor- 
respondent of mine or some other experimenter picks up a 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 531 

casual thought from me and writes me a letter about it? The 
Turks censor our letters and would see it. Nothing could con- 
vince them I have not broken my word." 

At my request the Colonel glanced through the letters. 
"But these have been censored," he said in surprise, pointing to 
the Turkish censor's mark. 

"Quite so," I replied, "and I would like you to take charge 
of them for me. If Constantinople court-martials me for 
spiritualism, I shall ask you to produce these as proof that our 
experiments were carried on without concealment." 

"Certainly," said the Colonel, as he locked away the letters 
in a box. "Now I understand why you can't give your prom- 
ise to the Turk. But I want you to give it to me. Will you 
promise not to attempt communication with anyone in the 
town by conscious telepathy or any other means?" 

"I never have attempted to do so by other means," I said. 

The Colonel's face grew very stern. "I beg your pardon," 
he said severely. "I am informed that the Commandant holds 
an intercepted letter." 

I nodded. 

"It implicates you?" 

"Yes, both me and Hill." 

"It refers, does it not, to previous correspondence?" 

"It does," I replied. 

"If you have had no communication with outside, will you 
be good enough to explain how you began this correspon- 
dence?" 

The Colonel was now in his element. He was treating me 
like a defaulter in the orderly room. 

"By telepathy," said I. 

"Yes, sir," said Hill, in answer to a glance of enquiry. "Our 
only communication with outside has been by telepathy." 

The good Colonel was puzzled and distressed. He sat silent 
for a time, frowning a little. 

"Look here," he said at last. "You told the Commandant 
you have given your parole not to reveal the name of your 
communicator." 

"I did." ^ 

The Colonel leant forward, a hand on each knee, and looked 
hard into my eyes. "You now say" — ^he spoke with emphatic 



132 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

slowness — "you now assert you have had no outside communi- 
cations. To whom did you give that parole?" 

"To the Spook," said I, grinning.^ 

The Colonel jumped to his feet, and strode across to the 
little window. He stood there for a space, looking into the 
garden. Every now and then he passed his hand over his 
brow. At last he turned round and faced us. 

'T give it up!" he said. 

Hill and I smiled — we could not help it. 

"I give it up," the Colonel repeated, with great sternness. 

I spoke with all the gravity I could muster. 

"Sir," I said, "I give you my word that since I came to Yoz- 
gad I have had no communication by speech or writing direct 
or indirect with anyone in Turkey outside the camp, except the 
Turkish officials. Nor have I ever attempted any communi- 
cation with the inhabitants by any other means than telepathy." 

"That is good enough for me," said the Colonel brightly. 
"Now to avoid getting the camp into trouble, will you agree 
while you remain in this camp not to attempt conscious telep- 
athy or other communication with any outsiders? I don't 
mean any'ordinary open conversation — ^you know what I mean, 
don't you?" 

! "Yes," said I, and gave the promise he wanted. Then I 
glanced across at Hill. The Colonel was looking pleased and 
the time seemed propitious. 

"Sir," said Hill, "I want to take back the parole I gave to 
your predecessor — not to escape." 
I The Colonel frowned again. "Why?" said he. 

"Because Jones and I are going to be separately confined 
from the rest of the camp. I want to be free to escape if I 
want to." 

"Hum!" said the Colonel. 

"I am the only man in camp who is on parole to you," 
pleaded Hill. 

"Hum!" said the Colonel again. 

"We may be sent to the common jail," said Hill. 

The Colonel rubbed his chin. "You are aware that if any- 
one escapes the rest of the camp will be punished? You have 

* See p. ii8. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 133 

seen the Commandant's order on the subject, have you not?" ^ 

''Yes," said Hill; "but from this afternoon we are to be in 
separate confinement. We won't form part of the camp." 

"Well," said the Colonel, "if you are put in the common 
jail, you may escape if you can. But if you are confined in 
one of these houses round here, I shall consider you are still 
in the camp." 

"But supposing we are moved from Yozgad?" Hill protested. 

"I can't have you risking the comfort of a hundred other 
officers," he replied. "You should think of the others. But 
in view of a possible move, I shall modify your parole to apply 
only to Yozgad and a five-mile radius round it, excluding the 
jail, if you like." 

Hill glanced across at me. On the principle that half a loaf 
is better than no bread, I nodded. 

"Thank you, sir," said Hill. 

We turned to go. 

"What about you, Jones?" said the Colonel suddenly. 
"Have you any intention of running away?" 

I looked as surprised as I could. "Good Lord, sir!" I said. 
"Do you think I'm such a fool as to think of it with a groggy 
knee like mine?" 

The Colonel laughed. "There's no saying with you fellows," 
said he; "but that's all right now." 

Hill and I walked up the garden together. 

"That five-mile circle is pretty beastly," he grumbled. 

"There's always the jail," I said. "The Spook can push you 
in there if necessary later on." 

"That's so!" Hill brightened up. "He nearly pinched you 
for parole too! I thought you were in for it!" 

"So did I," I laughed, "but I wriggled out of it." 

I was quite wrong. Half an hour later the Colonel came 
to my room. He handed me a document. 

"This is a summary of the results of our interview," he said. 
"Read it and tell me if it is correct." 

I read it, and found he had put me on parole with Hill for 
the double event — not to telepathize with the good folk of 
Yozgad, and not to escape from the five-mile circle. 

* The order is quoted in the footnote, p. 88. 



134 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

I might as well be in the same boat as Hill after all. "It's 
all right," I said. 

"Of course," he said, *'if you insist on it at any time, I am 
bound to give you back your parole." 

This was very fair of the Colonel. But his refusal of the 
morning was still too fresh, and I remembered how another 
senior officer had treated Hill's first attempt to recover his 
parole which he had made some months before. (He liad 
threatened to inform the Turks!) The Commandant's allegi- 
ance to the Spook was as yet too shaky to let us take any 
risks, however slight. We could take back our parole, if neces- 
sary, in our own good time. 

"Thank you, sir," I said; "I shall remember that. But we 
have no intention of getting the camp into trouble." 

"Hum!" said the Colonel, and left me. And that was the 
last I saw of him in captivity. 

I had one more visitor of importance that morning. Doc. 
brought me his report of the trial, which has been quoted 
above. I thanked him for letting me read it. 

"Is that correct?" he asked. 

"It is what happened," said I. 

"Do you know," he said, "I couldn't sleep last night. Lay 
awake for hours and hours after writing that. I was 
thinkin' . . ." 

"That's bad," I sympathized. "Did it hurt much?" 

He took me by the shoulders, turned my face to the light 
and stood looking at me quizzingly for some time. His eyes 
were dancing with mischief. 

"Tell me," he said at last. "Honest now! Are you by any 
chance an Irishman in disguise?" 

"No," I laughed, "I am not." 

"Any Irish blood in ye?" 

"Not a drop, Doc. dear." 

He ruffled his hair, plunged his hands deep in his pockets, 
and began walking up and down with a short quick step. 

"Then I can't understand it," he cried. "If you were an 
Irishman I'd know where I was, but you say you're not." 

"Is it my nose that's botherin' you, Doc. dear?" I chaffed. 

"It is not your nose," he said emphatically, "an' well you 
know it! It's this preposterous trial. If you were an Irish- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 135 

man, I'd know you'd planned the whole thing for a bit of 
devilment." 

''Mercy me!" I exclaimed. "What makes you say that?" 

"I'll tell you," he said, pushing me into a chair. "Sit down 
there where I can watch your face^ an' I'll tell you. How 
long have I known you, Bones?" 

"Nearly two years," I said. 

"An' how well do I know you?" 

"Don't know," I replied. "You tell me." 

"I will. I know you as well as thisl I'll eat my boots if 
you are a souper." 

"Souper?" 

"If you were an Irishman, you'd know what that means. 
It's a fellow who changes his religion to keep his lands." 

"But I haven't changed my religion, Doc." 

"No," said he, "but you've done as bad. Yesterday at the 
trial you gave away your pal." 

"Don't rake all that up again," I expostulated. "I lost my 
head. I got excited, and I explained it all to you yesterday." 

"Ay," the Doc. teased, "and it was that same explanation 
that kept me awake last night. You're a queer sort of man 
to lose your head at a trial, you that's been a magistrate in 
Burma since Heaven knows when." 

"It was so sudden. Doc." 

"Maybe. But if you cut your finger now, and suddenly 
asked me to bandage it, d'you think I'd lose my head? Why, 
it's my work! Sudden or slow, it's all the same to me. And 
sudden or slow, your work's all the same to you. You didn't 
lose your head!" 

"Then I must be a souper," I sighed. 

"You're noti' he said. "I know you better." 

I sat silent. 

"Besides," he went on, "Hill and you were hobnobbing to- 
gether this morning. / saw you — laughing fit to burst, an' as 
thick as thieves." 

"Perhaps he has forgiven me," I suggested. 

"No use, Bones! No use at all. As certain as I'm sitting 
here you two are up to something together. Now what is it?" 

I did not answer. 

"Bones," he pleaded, "if this is a joke an' you leave me out 



136 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

in the cold, I'll never forgive you. I'll — I'll die of grief an' 
come back to manifest on ye when I'm dead. What were ye 
laughing about like that, you and Hill? When I see two fel- 
lows in your position as happy as larks, I want to share 1 
Why — you're laughing now! It's a ramp, I'm sure it's a ramp! 
For pity's sake let me in! I'll keep it as dark as Erebus! Let 
me help you. Is there anything I can do?" 

■'I daresay there is, Doc, but you might burn your fingers." 

"'Blow my fingers!" he said. "You must tell me now! If 
you don't I'll — I'll go straight to Maule and tell him my sus- 
picions." 

"You souper!" said I. "Just to keep you from harming us 
with your confounded theories, I'll have to tell you as much 
as is good for you. You remember the revolver stunt?" 

He nodded. 

"This is an extension of it. We are looking for a buried 
treasure for the Turks. We wanted to get moved away from 
the rest of the camp so as to have peace to carry out our 
plans and do the thing in style. The trial was just a ramp to 
get us moved. It was all rehearsed beforehand." 

"Gosh!" Doc. cried, "so the Pimple is in the know with 
you?" 

''And the Commandant," I said. 

"What?" Doc. shouted. 

"And the Commandant," I repeated. "He was playing a 
part, too." 

Doc. jumped to his feet, stared at me a moment, and then a 
broad grin spread over his face, and he broke into the first 
steps of a Irish jig, cavorting his delight in a sort of speechless 
ecstasy. 

He stopped, suddenly grave. "Was I the only one who made 
a fool of myself?" he asked anxiously. "What about, the other 
witnesses, Winnie and Gilchrist and Peel? Were they in the 
know?" 

"Not a bit," I said. "You four were the audience, all in 
the outer darkness together, and you did very well indeed, 
thank you!" 

"But we gave you away!" 

"You were intended to do that," I said. 

The Doc. began to laugh again. "Oh, Bones," he gasped, 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 137 

"what benighted fools we've been! Now, if you love me, tell 
me all about it." 

"No time for that, Doc," I said, "but read this and you'll 
know as much as the Turks." I handed him the record of our 
seances with the Pimple, and went on with my packing. 

When he had finished reading, he came over and sat down 
beside me. 

"Bones," he said, "I'm hanged if I see what you are driving 
at yet. But it's the ramp of the century. Is there any mortal 
thing I can do to help you?" 

"There is, Doc! You've been in the Commandant's private 
house. Describe it to me, carefully." 

He did so. "Anything else?" he asked. 

I shook my head. 

"Look here, Bones." The little man had grown suddenly 
solemn. "I know the Commandant; I've treated him as a 
doctor, and I know him. He's dangerous — a bad man. And 
as for the Cook, he's a limb of Satan 1 He'll poison or shoot 
you as soon as look at you. I don't want to spoil a joke, but 
you're running a risk — a hell of a risk. You've compromised 
them with their own War Office, and if they find out you are 
bluffing them about this treasure, don't blame me if it's good- 
bye." 

"That reminds me," I said; "there is one other thing I want 
you to do for us. If we send out of prison to ask for medi- 
cine, don't give it; insist on coming to see us." He nodded. 
"And don't you worry, Doc ! We're coming through all right, 
and it'll be a top-hole ramp, anyway." 

"How far is it going to lead you?" he asked. 

"Sufficient unto the day!" I said. "We don't know." 

Doc. burst out laughing and smacked me hard between the 
shoulders. 

"Bones, ye vagabond," he cried, "I believe you are an Irish- 
man after all!" 



At 3 p. m. our twenty-four hours of grace expired. Once 
more we went to the Commandant's office — Hill and I and the 
four witnesses. The last act of the little comedy was played. 
The Commandant began with a graphic picture of the horrors 
of a Turkish prison and the monotony of a bread-and-watec 



138 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

diet. It was excellently done, and calculated to give the most 
phlegmatic of Britishers cold shudders down the spine. Then 
he told us how much he loved us prisoners, and would we spare 
him the pain of putting us in jail by giving up the name he 
wanted? Hill and I were models of firnmess in our refusal. 
Kiazim Bey, with a gesture of hopelessness, indicated he could 
do no more for us. Then came the sentence. The common 
jail for the present would remain in abeyance, but until we 
saw fit to confess we would be confined in a back room of the 
''Colonels' House" — a large empty building opposite the office. 
We would be allowed no communication whatever with other 
prisoners, and no orderly, but we might have our clothes and 
bedding. We would not be permitted to write or receive any 
letters. To begin with, our food could be sent in by the near- 
est prisoners' house. If we remained obdurate, we would later 
sample a bread-and-water diet. No walks and no privileges of 
any kind, and the threat of a further court-martial and a se- 
verer sentence by Constantinople over our heads! 

Then something happened which neither Hill nor I had 
foreseen, and which completely took our breath away. Major 
Gilchrist in his position as adjutant of the camp made an ex- 
ceedingly polite and grateful speech. No doubt he thought he 
was being very diplomatic, for on behalf of the camp he 
thanked the Commandant for the courtesy and fairness with 
which he had conducted the trial and for the leniency of the 
sentence! ^ 

After this "vote of thanks," our four witnesses left the office. 
They were good fellows, those four. They busied themselves 
getting up our kit to our new quarters, and seeing the room 
swept out and all made comfortable for us. While they were 
doing so. Hill and I and the Commandant and the Pimple v/ere 
having a noble time together, recalling the various incidents in 
the trial and congratulating each other on our successful per- 
formances. The Commandant thought it all the best joke of 

* Major Gilchrist was not alone in his admiration for the Com- 
mandant's leniency. Major Peel, in recording the sentence in his 
account of the trial, adds the comment : "The Commandant seems to 
have behaved remarkably well over this." See also Col. Maule's 
letter to the Netherlands Ambassador at Constantinople quoted in 
Chapter XXX. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 139 

liis life, and he made us repeat several times Gilchrist's paean 
of praise, rocking in his chair with laughter. 

At last there was a trampling in the hall below. The 
Chaoush had amassed a guard sufficiently strong to escort us 
two desperadoes across the street, and was waiting, so the Com- 
mandant shook hands with us in turn. 

"Remember, my friends," he said, "you have but to ask for 
anything you want, and you will get it." 

Then we were marched across to our new prison, the first 
men in history, so far as we knew, to be sentenced for thought- 
reading, 




CHAPTER XII 

OF THE COMRADES WE HAD LEFT BEHIND AND HOW POSH 
CASTLE PLAYED THE RAVEN 

UR new prison was one of the best built houses ia 
Yozgad, empty of all furniture, it is true (except the 
chair and table we had each brought with us), but 
large, airy, and comparatively clean. From the front 
windows we had a view of the Commandant's office and the 
main street. From the side we looked into 'Tosh Castle," 
where now lived our friends Doc, Price and Matthews; and 
at the back there was a tiny cobbled yard, with high walla 
round it, and a large stone horse-trough, which we promptly 
converted into that real luxury — a full-length bath. To the 
south-east we had a wide view of the distant pine-woods, and 
nearer at hand a certain grey rock projected through the snow 
on the slope of South hill. Under its shadow lay the first clue 
to the treasure. 

Indoors, if we wished it, we could, each have a bedroom, a 
dining-room and a study, and still leave a spare suite for the 
chance guest. Furniture? Simple enough! Move your chair 
and table to wherever you want to sit, and there you are! 
When we arrived some of our friends were waiting to see the 
last of us. Our escort hustled them out. The door slammed, 
the key grated in the lock, and a sentry took up his stand 
outside. Our separation from the camp was complete, and our 
solitary confinement had begun. 

It was natural that Hill and I should be elated at the success 
of our plan. The simultaneous hoodwinking of friend and foe 
had for us an amusing side. But mingled with our elation and 
our amusement was a feeling which no loyalty to our friends 
in the camp could suppress. For we rejoiced, above all, in our 
loneliness, in our freedom from interruption, in the fact that we 

140 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 141 

were quit of the others. I make the confession knowing that 
any fellow-prisoner who chances on this story will understand 
and sympathize. The longing for a little solitude was shared 
by us all. 

It must not be imagined that the prison walls of Yozgad 
enclosed a company of particularly obnoxious irreconcilables, 
or that we were a shiftless crew who gave in to the discomforts 
of their situation. Far from it. A more companionable set 
of men never existed, and during our stay in Yozgad we over- 
came every difficulty but one. For instance: to begin with, 
there was an entire absence of furniture. Yozgad was no 
Donnington Hall, and the Turks provided nothing but a roof 
to our heads, and a bare floor — sometimes of stone — for us to 
lie on. The camp purchased empty grocery boxes, acquired a 
saw, a hammer, a plane, and nails, and some of our prisoners 
evolved designs in chairs and tables and beds which would 
have done credit to Maple's. Our food, both in quality and 
price, was appalling; we learned to cook, and before we left 
Yozgad there were Messes which could turn out on occasion a 
five-course dinner that left nothing to be desired. We had 
no games. . . . Busy penknives soon remedied the deficiency; 
chessmen, draughts, roulette-wheels, toboggans, looges, skis, 
hockey-sticks, and hockey-balls were turned out to meet the 
demand. There was no end to the ingenuity of individuals in 
supplying their wants or adding to their few comforts. We 
had cobblers of every grade, from an artist like Colonel Maule, 
who made himself a pair of rope-soled shoes, to "Tony," whose 
only boots, owing to their patches, were of different size and 
vastly different design — indeed, it required a stretch of the 
imagination to realize they had once been a pair. We had 
knitters who could unravel a superfluous "woolly" and convert 
it into excellent socks, heels and all. We had tailors whose 
efforts (being circumscribed by the paucity of cloth) would 
have brought tears of delight to the eyes of Joseph. In every 
house there was an embryo Harrod who kept a "store" con- 
taining everything, "from a needle to an anchor," that the 
Turks would allow him to buy, and an accountant who evolved 
a system of book-keeping and book-transfer of debts which en- 
abled those under a temporary financial cloud (a thing to which 
we were all subject, thanks to the irregularity of the Ottoman 



142 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

post) to continue making necessary purchases until the next 
cheque arrived. 

These were all material difficulties, and easily adjusted. Our 
chief problem was how to pass the time. It was tackled in a 
similar spirit and with nearly equal success. We had four-a- 
side hockey tournaments^ and (when the Turks allowed) 
walks, picnics, tobogganing, and ski-ing. There was one glori- 
ous-point-to-point ski race over the snow-clad hills, with flag- 
wagging signallers along the course, bookmakers and a selling 
sweep, and to cap it all a magnificent close finish. That was 
a red-letter day. Later on there was to be a Hunt Club, with 
long dogs and foxes and hares complete. 

For indoor amusement we wrote dramas, gay and serious, 
melodramas, farces and pantomimes. We had scene-painters 
whose art took us back to England (we could sit all day look- 
ing at the "village-green" scene). We had an orchestra of 
prison-made instruments, a prison-trained male-voice choir 
and musicians to write the music for them. Artists, song- 
writers, lecturers, poets, historians, novelists, actors, dramatists, 
musicians and critics — especially critics — all these we evolved 
in the effort to keep our minds from rusting. Indeed, we went 
beyond mere amusement in the effort: we went to school again! 
When at last books began to arrive from England a library 
was formed, and classes were held in Mathematics, Physics, 
Political Economy, French, German, Spanish, Hindustani, 
Electricity, Engineering, Machine Drawing, Agriculture and 
Sketching. We became a minor University, with Professors 
who made up in enthusiasm what they lacked in experience. 
Memories of their, own youth made some of them set "home 
work," and it was no uncommon thing to run across a doughty 
warrior, most unacademically dressed in ragged khaki, seeking 
in vain for some quiet comer of the garden where he might 
wrestle uninterrupted with the latest vagaries of x, or convert 
into graceful Urdu a sonorous passage from the "Decline and 
Fall of the Roman Empire." 

Nor did we await the tardy arrival of books to commence 
our education. Barely had we settled down in Yozgad when 

*The "hockey pitch" was a piece of ground rather smaller than 
a tennis-court and surrounded by stone walls. Lack of space limited 
the size of the sides to four men. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 143^ 

some genius realised that the hundred officers and men whom 
the Turk had collected haphazard within our prison walls pos- 
sessed amongst them a rich and varied experience. Our genius 
had a persuasive tongue. He organized lectures. Once a 
week, after dinner, we of the Upper House gathered in the only- 
place that would hold us all together — the landing. It was 
unfurnished, dark, and draughty. Each man brought his own 
chair, each room provided a candle or a home-made lamp. 
Wrapped in blankets, rugs, bedquilts, sheepskins, anything we 
possessed to keep out the cold, and packed together like sar- 
dines, we settled down to what in those days was the one en- 
trancing hour in the dull week. And what lectures those were! 
With men who had done or helped to do these things we en- 
tered the Forbidden City and shared in the taking of Pekin, 
combated sleeping-sickness in Central Africa, tea-planted in 
Ceylon, cow-punched in America, chased criminals in Burma, 
joined in the Jameson Raid, fruit-farmed in Kent, organized an 
army for an Indian Princeling, defended a great Channel Port, 
fought in a Frontier War, went geologizing in the Sudan, and 
trained the Rangoon river. We controlled in turn a Royal 
Mint, a great jute mill, a battery of Field Artillery, a colour- 
photography studio, a submarine, a police-court in England, 
a wireless telegraphy station, a pork factory, a torpedo-boat, 
and a bee-farm. 

The list is not exhaustive, but it may serve its turn. Such 
were the men with whom we had spent nearly two years of 
our lives. In a month of marching you could not fall in with 
company more varied, more interesting, or more charming. 
Yet, because amongst the many difficulties that had been over- 
come one remained unsolved. Hill and I were glad to get away. 
Nothing in captivity is so distressing, so discomforting, so im- 
possible to allay as overcrowding, and the unhappy conse- 
quences it brings in its train. It is a cancer that eats into the 
heart of every unnatural form of society. Time is its ally, and 
slowly but surely it wears down all opposition. In Yozgad we 
did not quarrel — we got along without that — and we tried not 
to complain. But every now and then a man would seek relief. 
As unostentatiously as might be he would change his mess, and 
though nothing was said, we all knew why. He knew, and we 
knew, that he was not getting rid of the bonds that were so 



144 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

irksome. He was merely seeking to exchange the old for the 
new pattern of handcuff, in the hope that it would not gall him 
in the same raw spot, and we could sympathize with him. 
Your neighbour may be the most excellent of good fellows, but 
if he is jogging your elbow for every hour of the twenty-four 
you will begin to look askance at him. Little idiosyncrasies 
that would pass unmarked in ordinary life assume the magni- 
tude- of positive faults. Faults grow into unendurable sins. 
The fine qualities of the man — his endurance, his courage, his 
cheerfulness, his generosity — are lost to sight under the cloud 
of minor peculiarities that close acquaintance brings into view. 
Indeed, in time, his very virtues may be counted unto him as 
vices. His stoicism becomes a "pose," his cheerfulness is 
''tomfoolery," his generosity "softness," his courage "rash- 
ness"! We knew the worth of the men beside us, but we were 
being forced to examine them under the microscope. So we 
were in constant danger of taking the part for the whole, and 
of losing all sense of proportion. Z was a glorious leader of 
men: we forgot it — because he snored in his sleep! Distance 
lends enchantment, because it puts things into their true pro- 
portions. To realize the grandeur of a mountain the climber 
must stand back from it, at least once in a while. And so it 
is mth character. 

I do not know if others — ^leaders of Arctic Expeditions, for 
instance — are wont to succeed much better than we did in 
solving the problems of maintaining feelings of mutual respect 
amongst their company. Certain it is they have a great ad- 
vantage over us, because, for them, the close companionship 
is voluntary and (>^hat is more important) necessary to the 
attainment of a common object. For us, it was compulsory, 
and the common object that palliates it was entirely wanting. 
But we did our best. Outwardly we succeeded; there was no 
public break in the harmony of our camp. Yet in our hearts 
every one of us knew that he had failed, and that our only 
achievement had been to fail in a very gentlemanly way. 

Our new-found solitude came to Hill and myself in a good 
hour, while the friendships we had formed in the camp were 
green and the canker-worm of super-intimacy still in its in- 
fancy. For we had left behind many friends and, as far as 
we knew, no enemies. In front of us stretched a prospect of 




K 



fe 



X 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR i45 

an indefinite period of unrelieved companionship with one an- 
other. What dangers to our mutual friendship this involved we 
knew too well. But we had that on our side which would 
have relieved the camp of its most serious trouble — a common 
aim. We no longer merely existed. We were partners in a 
great enterprise. There was something definite for which to 
work, something which would compensate us for every hard- 
ship — our hope of freedom. 

Absurd as it may seem, Hill and I felt not only happier, but 
actually freer in our new prison than we had done in the camp. 
On the face of things there was no excuse for this feeling, for 
outwardly we were more closely confined than ever. In order 
to give a fitting air of verisimilitude to his proceedings, Kiazim 
Bey had issued the strictest orders to our sentries. Indeed, he 
went rather out of his way to describe us as a pair of desperate 
characters, and so upset the nerves of our old ''gamekeepers" 
that for the first few days of our confinement they marched up 
and down outside our house, instead of snoozing in their sentry- 
boxes as they had been accustomed to do. The genial, wizened 
little Corporal, Ahmed Onbashi, whose duty it was to verify 
the presence of all prisoners night and morning, lost all the 
bonhomie v/hich had made him a favourite, and for at least a 
week we saw no more of him than a wrinkled nose and a single 
anxious eye peering at us round the gently opened door of our 
room. But as the days passed by and we showed no signs of 
hostility, he gradually regained his old confidence. His escort 
dropped from two veterans with rifles at the "ready" to the 
accustomed one with no rifle at all. At last he came one night 
boldly into the room, and catching sight of our spook-board 
propped against the wall, he pointed a grimy finger at it, shook 
his head at us, and uttered one of the very few Turkish phrases 
that was understood of all the camp — "Yessackf Chok fena!" 
(Forbidden! Very bad!) From which we learned that the 
cause of our downfall was known to our humble custodian. 

The stricter surveillance did not in the least affect our hap- 
piness for it had been suggested by the Spook, and our present 
circumstances were of our own choosing. We knew that, 
within certain limits, we could lighten or tighten our bonds as 
we pleased, for we had gained some control over the forces 
that controlled us. We were no longer utterly and entirely 



J46 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

under the orders of the un-get-at-able Turk. We had the 
Spook as an ally, and the Spook could make the Commandant 
sit up. 

There was another reason, deeper and more permanent, for 
this curious, instinctive sense of increased liberty which came 
to us, and expressed itself in the enthusiastic enjoyment with 
which we submitted to a more stringent form of imprisonment. 
At the time we could not have put the reason into words, but 
it was there all the same, and it was this: so far as we our- 
selves were concerned, we were well on the way to correct the 
one serious mistake which the camp as a whole had committed. 
It was the mistake that lies at the core of all tragedies. We 
in Yozgad had put the lesser before the greater good, our duty 
to ourselves, as prisoners, before our duty to ourselves, as men, 
and to our country. For reasons that have been stated it was 
considered wrong to attempt to escape. The general feeling 
was that there was no choice but to wait for peace with such 
patience as we could muster. We all knew the value of what 
we had lost when we surrendered to the Turk. But not one 
of us realized clearly that since our capture we had surrendered 
something infinitely more precious than physical freedom. It 
was not the supremacy of the Turk but our own recognition of 
it and our resignation to captivity that made us moral as well 
as physical prisoners. We did not see that in giving up trying 
to free ourselves we were giving up our one hope of happiness 
until peace came. So that in spite of the outward cheerfulness, 
the brave attempts at industry, and the gallant struggle against 
the deterioration that a prison environment brings, an atmos- 
phere of hopelessness pervaded the whole camp. At heart, we 
were all unhappy, for we had created for ourselves an "Inevit- 
able." The camp had built a prison within a prison, and he 
who wished to run had to defeat the vigilance of his own com- 
rades before he could tackle the Turk. It is perhaps too much 
to say that it is a man's duty to escape, but certainly it is not 
his duty to bar the way to escape either for himself or for any- 
one else. Had every prisoner in Yozgad bent his energies to 
achieve freedom not only for himself but for his fellows, things 
would have been very different in the camp. Strafed the camp 
might have been, but it would have been in its duty, happy in 
discomfort instead of miserable in comparative ease, and welded 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 147 

into unity by a common aim. Prisoners most of us would 
have remained, but not beaten captives; the victims of mis- 
fortune, but not its slaves. 

In getting away from the camp Hill and I had gained a new 
and more cheerful outlook. But we did not realize that we had 
already broken down the walls of our moral prison. There was 
no time to analyze the causes of our happiness. We were ob- 
sessed with the immediate situation, and especially with the 
necessity of getting the proof of Kiazim Bey's complicity which 
would make the camp safe. Kiazim was not an easy man to 
trap: up to date there was nothing he could not explain by a 
theory of collusion between his subordinates and ourselves. He 
was perfectly capable of sacrificing the Pimple in order to save 
his own skin. He could range himself alongside Gilchrist and 
the other witnesses, and pose as the victim of a plot in which 
he had had no share. When alone with us he was as frank 
and open as a man could be. But we had no proof of his share 
in the plot. With typical Oriental cunning he kept himself well 
in the background. There was no hope of getting him to com- 
mit himself in the presence of others; yet, by hook or by crook, 
we must produce independent evidence that he was implicated 
in the treasure-hunt. 

Weeks ago we had conceived the idea of snapshotting Kia- 
zim Bey, his satellites and ourselves, digging for the hidden 
gold. Cameras are a luxury forbidden to prisoners of war, 
but Hill had made one out of a chocolate box and half a lens, 
to fit films which a fellow-prisoner possessed.^ The drawback 
to the camera was its bulk — it measured about twelve inches 
each way — which rendered concealment difficult. He had had 
serious thoughts of making the attempt with this as a last 
resort, but found a better way. On our first night in the 
Colonels' House, Hill put into my hands a Vest-Pocket Kodak, 
belonging to Wright, which somehow or another had escaped 
notice at the time of the latter's capture. Films to fit it had 
arrived in a parcel, and Hill had palmed them under the nose 
of the Turkish censor while "helping" him to unpack. He 
explained to me that as the films were his own, and the camera 

* Several of the photos in this volume were taken with this home- 
made camera. They were developed at Yozgad by Hill and Miller, 
who somehow got possession of the necessary chemicals. 



148 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

without films was only a danger to Wright, he had "borrowed" 
it for our purposes without asking permission. It contained 
three films still unexposed — which would prove three ropes for 
the neck of Kiazim Bey, or that of the photographer, according 
as the Goddess of Fortune smiled on Britisher or Turk. 

It is not easy to take a group photograph at seven paces 
(the limit, we reckoned, for recognition of the figures) without 
somebody noticing what is being done. Discovery would be 
dangerous, for we were now very much in the Commandant's 
power. It was no new idea to the Turkish mind, as we knew 
from the Pimple, to get rid of a man by shooting him on the 
plea that he was attempting escape; and in our case the camp 
was more than likely to believe the excuse. Besides, there are 
many other Oriental ways of doing away with undesirables, 
and if Kiazim Bey caught us trying to trap him he would re- 
gard us as extremely undesirable. Now that we were actually 
up against the situation it looked much less amusing than it 
liad done from the security of the camp. 

"It's neck or nothing," I grumbled. "If we're spotted every- 
thing goes smash, and we'll probably be in for it. I'm hanged 
if those fellows in the camp who cussed us for nuisances are 
worth the risk." 

We were still pondering gloomy possibilities when heavy 
footsteps sounded on our stairs, and paused on the landing 
outside. 

"Htebsi-gituriorum-effendiler-htebsi-i-i." 

Hill and I looked at each other. The noise was like nothing 
on earth. 

"Htebsi-gituriorum-effendiler-htebsi-i-i." 

"Somebody sneezing, I think," said Hill, and opened the 
door. 

It was the Commandant's second orderly. We never knew 
his name, so because he was in rags, and looked starved, and 
had the biggest feet in Asia, we called him "Cinderella" for 
short. 

In his hands was an enormous blue tray, piled with enamel 
dishes, from which came a most appetising odour of baked 
meats. Cinderella advanced cautiously into the room. He 
ivas obviously afraid of us two criminals, but he was much 
more nervous about the tray. He wore the look I have seen 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 149 

on the face of a bachelor holding a baby, and seemed to ex- 
pect everything to come to pieces in his great hands. Very 
gingerly he sidled round the table, keeping it between him and 
ourselves, and placed the tray upon it. 

"Htehsi!" he said again with a sigh of relief, and pointing 
to the tray he left us. 

"He was not sneezing after all. Bones. 'Htebsi' must mean 
grub or something. Let's see." Hill began to uncover the 
dishes, I helping him. 

"Soup!" said he. 

"Meat — roast mutton ! " said I, lifting a second cover. 
. "Potatoes — by Jove!" 

"Nettle-top spinach!!" 

"Chocolate pudding!!!" Hill cried. 

I peered into the only remaining dish — a small jug. 

"Coffee!" I gasped, and collapsed into a chair. Compared 
with our customary dinner it was a feast for the gods. It 
came, as we knew, from "Posh Castle," for under the Spook's 
instructions the Commandant had requested that mess to send 
us food. It was the nearest prisoners' house and therefore, 
we thought, it was the natural thing for the Commandant to 
do. Of course, we had no manner of claim on "Posh Castle," 
but as we were putting ourselves to a certain amount of trouble 
for the sake of the camp, we had considered it right and 
proper they should do our cooking for us for a day or two. 
But we had not reckoned on their killing the fatted calf in 
this way, and our consciences pricked us. 

"This," said Hill in a very contrite voice, "this is the work 
of old Price " 

"Who believes in the Spook," I groaned, "I've been stuffing 
him with lies for a year." 

"Oh, what a pair of swine we are," we said together. 

I took the camera from under the mattress where I had 
hidden it when Cinderella appeared, and gave it back to 
Hill. 

"I think, Hill, that risk or no risk " 

"Of course!" he snapped at me. "It's got to be done now! 
And if it comes off, Posh Castle gets the photos. Have some 
soup?" 

It was a merry dinner, and the coffee at the end was nectar. 



ISO THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"Now," said Hill, by way of grace after meat, "let us begin 
to minimize that risk. Watch m«!" 

For fifteen minutes I stood over him, my eyes on his clever 
hands, watching for a glimpse of the camera as over and over 
again he took it out, opened it, sighted it, closed it, and re- 
turned it to his pocket. I rarely saw it until it was ready in 
position, and then only the lens peeped through his fingers, 
but when I did I told him. It was the first of a series of daily 
practices. 

"Once I know the feel of it I'll do better," he said at the 
end; "I should be pretty good in about three weeks." 

"You're pretty good now, but where does my part come 
in?" 

"You'll have to talk like a blooming machine-gun, to drown 
the click of the shutter, and " Hill grinned and paused. 

"Yes?" 

"Well, if it is a dull day, it will be a time exposure, and 
you'll have to pose the blighters, of course." 

I retired to my corner to think it out. 





o 



O 



U 



Ph 



H 




CHAPTER XIII 

IN WHICH THE PIMPLE LEARNS HIS FUTURE LIES IN EGYPT 

'E Started our sojourn in the Colonels' House with a 
great many irons in the fire. As an essential pre- 
liminary to our main plan we had the photograph 
to take, and in case any of the hundred and one 
possible accidents happened to the films, we must provide sub- 
sidiary evidence of Kiazim's complicity. The main plan was, 
of course, to escape from Turkey. Our first aim was to per- 
suade the Turks to convey us east, southeast, or south (the 
exact direction and distance would depend upon their con- 
venience, but we hoped for about 300 miles) in the search for 
the treasure. Once within reasonable distance of safety we 
could trust to our legs. In case our persuasive powers proved 
inadequate for this rather tough proposition, we must simul- 
taneously develop our second alternative. We must simulate 
some illness which would warrant our exchange. We fixed, 
provisionally, on madness. A third alternative, also requiring 
simultaneous development, was compassionate release. If we 
could get pressure from without brought to bear on the Turkish 
Government they might, on the Fitzgerald precedent, compen- 
sate us with freedom for our absurd imprisonment. 

The first thing to do was to get news to England of our 
trial and sentence. We calculated enquiries might be ex- 
pected at earliest about the middle of May. If, up to that 
time, we had failed to get the Commandant to move us from 
Yozgad, we were prepared to swear at the first breath of in- 
vestigation that his real reason in imprisoning us had been 
to force us to use our mediumistic powers to find the treasure. 
In proof, we would produce the photograph (if that was suc- 
cessful), say he had put us on bread and water, and show our 
"tortured" bodies. Indeed, we arranged to burn each other, 
when the time came, with red-hot coins, so as to have fresh 
scars to exhibit. It was a low-down plan, and we did not 

151 



152 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

want to resort to it, to its full extent, until the last, but we 
were ready for it, if needs must and the others failed. It 
depended, of course, on enquiries being instituted from Eng- 
land. 

In addition to the preparation of these three lines of escape, 
we had to keep up the interest of the Turks in the treasure, 
and to render absolute their belief in the powers of the Spook. 
In' the event of success in this we decided, until we said good- 
bye to Yozgad, to assume the Commandant's functions. We 
would, in the Spook's name, take charge of the camp, increase 
its house-room, add to its liberties and privileges, improve its 
relations with the Turks, prevent parcel and money robbery, 
rid it of the Pimple, whom everybody cordially hated, and (as 
an act of poetic justice for what had been done to us) put its 
senior officer on parole! (All this we did.) All the time we 
must be eternally on the watch against making the slightest 
slip which would betray either the fact that we ourselves 
were the Spook, or that we had any ulterior motive in our 
spiritualism. Lastly, and most difficult of all, we had to be 
ready at a moment's notice to checkmate any well-meant at- 
tempt at interference by our comrades in the camp. 

An ambitious programme, perhaps, but not too ambitious. 
After the telepathy trial, anything ought to be possible. 

The 8th of March was a busy day for Hill. As the prac- 
tical man of the combine he had to manufacture a new spook- 
board (the old one had to be left behind in the camp) and 
also a semaphore apparatus, for we had arranged (should oc- 
casion arise) to signal to Matthews, who lived across the way 
in Posh Castle. While Hill worked I submitted for his criti- 
cism various plans by which our aims might be attained. Next 
day the Pimple came in and sat chatting for a couple of hours. 
He told us that after his effort at the trial the Commandant had 
suffered from a bad go of nerves, and had lain awake all night 
wondering what Constantinople would say, and what Colonel 
Maule would write in his next sealed letter to headquarters. 
Kiazim's one ambition in life now was to get out of the trea- 
sure-hunt and send us mediums back to the camp. But he 
could not risk his own prestige by doing so. 

"Pah!" said the Pimple, "he is — what you call it? — tr^s 
poUronI" 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 153 

"I don't know German," said I. 

"That is French," the Pimple explained gravely. *Tt means 
what you call 'windy beggar.' " 

This sort of thing would never do! We had a seance. The 
Spook began at once to fan Kiazim's waning courage. It 
pointed out that the task of the mediums was to get thoroughly 
in tune one with another, but that this was quite impossible 
so long as the Commandant created cross-currents of thought- 
waves by worrying. The Commandant, the Pimple, the Cook, 
and the two mediums — all, in fact, who were concerned to find 
the treasure — must remain tranquil in mind or success would 
be impossible. Let their trust in the Spook be absolute, and 
all would be easy. Was not the Unseen working for us night 
and day? Whence came Gilchrist's paean of praise for the 
verdict? Surely the Commandant recognized that it had been 
put into his mouth by the Spirit to act as a bar to any further 
protest about the conviction? Thus had Gilchrist been firmly 
committed as a supporter of the Commandant's view. And 
so with Colonel Maule. The Spook was pained at the Com- 
mandant's fear of Maule: for was not Maule's mind already 
under control? Did Kiazim imagine that the Spook was idle 
except at seances? Why, Maule's head had been carefully 
filled with ideas by the Unseen Power: he was a plaything in 
the Spook's hands. It had been an easy matter to put him 
in the same boat as Kiazim, to get him to stop all "spooking" 
in the camp,^ to make him place Hill and Jones on parole not 
to telepathize or escape from Yozgad. 

Here the Pimple interrupted the seance. 

"Did you two give paroles to Colonel Maule?" he asked. 

"Yes," I said, affecting surprise. "How on earth do you 
know? Did Maule tell you?" 

"The glass has just written it," said Mo'ise triumphantly; 
"from the Spirit nothing is hidden." (Then to the Spook): 
"Go on, sir." 

The Spook went on. As a final, though quite unnecessary, 
protection for the Commandant, it promised to control the 
mediums (Hill and myself) to write letters to England in praise 

* After our "conviction" for telepathy Colonel Maule asked the 
spookers in the camp to refrain from further experiments. 



154 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

of their new quarters. If the mediums did not complain of 
their treatment nobody else could do so with any effect. Let 
these letters be copied and sent through without delay in the 
censoring, that they might counteract any chance complaint 
from the camp which escaped the notice of the Spook. 

The seance achieved its end. The Commandant had not 
previously realized that Gilchrist had been acting under the 
Spook's influence, nor had he known about the parole. He 
was therefore much pleased to find that the Spook was taking 
so much trouble on his behalf, and had such powers of con- 
trolling people. The letters, he thought, were an excellent 
idea. We thought so too, and we wrote plenty of them. Every 
letter was loud in its praises of the Turk, but the eulogies 
cloaked a very pretty cipher which informed our friends at 
home of our absurd conviction and asked for an enquiry. And 
every letter went off by the first mail after it had been written 
— a good fortnight ahead of those of the rest of the camp 
which, as the Pimple confessed to us, were regularly held back 
at Yozgad for local censoring. We thus created an express 
service of our own, and by its means sowed the seeds for our 
''Compassionate Release" stunt. We have since learnt what 
happened to these letters. They reached England in good 
time; they were submitted to very high quarters by my father, 
and he was solemnly advised to take no action, on the grounds 
that to betray knowledge of our fate would result in making 
the Turks believe we had secret means of communication with 
England, a belief that might have awkward consequences for 
us! So nothing was done. Luckily we did not know, and had 
always the pleasure of hoping for the best, which was good 
for us — it kept our courage up. 

We were now in smooth water again, and proceeded to make 
ourselves as comfortable as possible. The country was still 
under snow, and the charcoal brazier over which we warmed 
ourselves was quite inadequate for our needs. Considering we 
were going to present the Turks with a treasure worth, accord- 
ing to the Spook, £28,000, this was absurdly mean treatment. 
The Spook ordered us a stove — a real big one — and we got it! 
Donkey-loads of wood were bought for us in the bazaar, at 
cheap rates. The Cook was put on fatigue by the Spook, and 
made to chop the wood up for us, to light the fire of a morning 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 155 

before we were out of bed, to sweep out our rooms, to run 
messages to the bazaar, and generally to attend to our com- 
fort. He was delighted to do it. He even brought us some 
very pleasing dishes of Turkish food, and two kerosene lamps, 
with an ample supply of oil. The camp had been without kero- 
sene for a year or more. We had burned crude Afion oil — a 
thick and very messy vegetable oil — which gave a miserable 
light and made reading after dark more of a toil than a 
pleasure. The new lamps were a real luxury, and our enjoy- 
ment of them was not lessened by the Pimple's explanation 
that the kerosene was really a Turkish Government issue for 
prisoners, but as its price in the market was fabulous the Com- 
mandant did not issue it to the camp. He kept it for pin 
money 1 

There is no doubt we could have obtained anything the 
Spook ordered, short of freedom. But we took care the Spook 
should not order too much. Even in Turkey there is such a 
thing as "obtaining money by false pretences," and it would 
never do to have such motives ascribed to us, should an en- 
quiry be held. The Spook therefore announced that after a 
short period our diet would be reduced to dry bread. The 
alleged object of the low diet was "to increase clairvoyant 
powers." ^ It promised to incite a certain officer to persuade 
the Commandant to stop the food from Posh Castle, so that 
the onus of our starvation should rest on the camp and not on 
the Turks. "Further," said the Spook, "the mediums must re- 
member to accept no monetary gain. They must pay cost 
price for all they receive. They should expect and accept only 
acts of kindness which cost nothing. Nor must they hope for 
a reward for their services in money or its equivalent. Their 
reward will come later. . . . When their time comes to pass 
over to other spheres the knowledge they have thus gained will 
be worth more to them than all the riches in Asia." 

"Why?" Moise asked. "What is the reason they cannot get 
money?" 

* Really to give us a "starved look" which might be ascribed to 
madness should we have to adopt the madness scheme, and in order 
to enable us to accuse the Commandant of starving us should en- 
quiries come on the compassionate release plan. It could be made 
to serve either purpose. 



156 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"In order to confine the study to true seekers after knowl- 
edge," the Spook explained, "there must be no arridre fensie" 

The Cook was very much interested in the fact that we were 
to get none of the treasure. He questioned Moise very care- 
fully on the point. He was anxious to make sure that there 
was no possibility of a misunderstanding, and no chance of our 
claiming a share later. He was frankly out for business, was 
this "limb of Satan," and quite openly delighted at the Spook's 
orders. 

And now an incident occurred which both amused and im- 
pressed the Commandant. One of the most capable officers 
in the camp got an idea which he no doubt fondly imagined 
would regain us our liberty. He acted on it with the prompti- 
tude for which he was renowned. He informed the Comman- 
dant, through the Interpreter, that Jones and Hill were a 
pair of infernal practical jokers, that they were lazy beg- 
gars who disliked cooking and had thrown the trouble of it 
on the camp in general and Posh Castle in particular, and 
that therefore they were confounded nuisances. There was 
no manner of doubt, he said, but that they were simply 
pulling the Commandant's leg in order to live a life of ease, 
and his obvious plan was to send them back to the camp and 
let their fellow-prisoners deal with them as they deserved, or 
to make them do their own cooking. 

Had the Commandant not been "in the know" our friend's 
tactics might well have resulted in our being sent back to the 
camp. As it was, Kiazim Bey was vastly tickled at the theory 
of a leg-pull against himself, and pointed out to us with im- 
mense joy that the boot was on the other foot, and that he had 
successfully pulled the camp's leg. Moreover, the episode re- 
dounded to the credit of the Spook, who had promised to send 
this very ofiicer to complain about the trouble of sending us 
food, (We had received a hint that he might do so, but of 
that hint the Turks were, of course, in complete ignorance.) 
The Commandant was firmly convinced that his visitor had 
been acting under the Spirit's control, as promised, and he was 
correspondingly impressed. When questioned about it the 
Spook modestly admitted responsibility, but explained that 
from now on It wished to do as little as possible of this "out- 
side control work" in order to avoid "loss of force" which 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 152 

would be more usefully employed in finding the treasure. 

At the end of the second seance, which also was devoted to 
soothing the Commandant's difficulties and fears, there was a 
scene. The Pimple announced that he also had some private 
difficulties on which he wished to consult the Spook. So pri- 
vate were they that he had written them out, and would not 
utter them aloud. The Spirit would no doubt read the paper 
and answer them privately. Before I could formulate an ex- 
cuse Hill, to my surprise, assented, and asked Moise to place 
the paper of questions under the spook-board in the usual way. 
Moi'se put his hand in his pocket, and then sprang to his feet 
in wild excitement, and began a search through all his pockets. 

"Mon Dieul" he cried. "I am spooked! It is gone!" He 
rushed about the room, looking under the table, in the cup- 
boards, in the teapot — everywhere possible and impossible. 
Then he went through his pockets again and sank half hysteri- 
cal on to my bed. 

"Oh, mon Dieu! Mon DieuT he cried. *'What shall I do? 
What shall I do?" 

"What on earth's the matter?" I was completely puzzled. 

"My questions! Oh, my questions! They are gone! I 
am spooked!" 

It was a difficult task not to laugh. I knew Hill was sitting 
with a face like a blank wall, but I dared not look at him. 

"Are you sure you brought them?" I asked. 

The Pimple jumped up again. "I wrote them in the office," 
he cried, dancing with excitement, "and then I came herel 
Certainly I brought them!" 

There was a sudden crash and two distinct thumps on the 
landing outside. The noise sounded very loud in the empty 
house. We all looked at one another. 

"What was that?" the Pimple whispered. 

"It's the Spooks, I think," said I. "We often hear noises at 
night. But I'll see." I took up a spare candle and lit it. 

"Be careful!" said Hill solemnly. 

"Oh, be careful!" echoed the Pimple, who was badly scared. 

I knew no more than the others what the noise could be, and 
I felt curiously nervous as I opened the door. The Pimple's 
fear was infectious. 

Outside on the landing we had a high shelf where we kept 



i6o THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

quelquechose?" asked Hill, as he snuggled under the blankets. 

"Take your choice," said I. "Tinker, tailor, soldier, 
sailor " 

"Silk, satin, muslin, rags," Hill murmured; "well count the 
spuds we get for dinner tomorrow." 

"What for?" I asked sleepily. 

"The end of the War. This year, next year, some time, 
never! Good-night, old chap." 

^ome hours later I. woke. Hill's bed was empty. I wondered 
drowsily what he was up to, and went to sleep again. 

When next I opened my eyes it was morning. Hill was 
sleeping in his bed, very soundly. I reached for a book and 
read for half an hour, then the Pimple came in. He was hum- 
ming a French song to himself, and sounded very happy. 

"Ach, Hill, you grand paresseuxt Awake!" 

Hill opened one eye. 

"I have good news for you both," the Pimple went on. "The 
questions — I have them!" — he tapped his pocket — "and I am 
glad! To have lost them would have been dangersome. They 
are most private." Then he went on to talk of other matters. 

"Has he really got the questions?" I asked Hill, after the 
Pimple had gone. 

"Oh yes," laughed Hill. 

"How did you do it, old chap? I noticed your bed was 
empty about 2 ac emma." 

"Very simple!" he chortled. "I — no, I won't tell you. 
S'pose you find out for yourself. Of course," he added ma- 
liciously, "you can ask the Spook if you like." 

And there the matter rested. It is Hill's secret. Perhaps 
the reader can solve it? ^ 

At the next seance the Pimple produced his questions. We 
recognized our identification mark on the paper as he slipped 
it under the board, and took the risk that he had not altered 
anything inside. 

"Now, sir," said the Pimple to the Spook, "answer, please." 

He got his answers, and thought we were ignorant of what 
was said. Here they are: 

"i. No. 

"2. Be careful. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR j6i" 

"3. Be careful. 

"4. Be most careful. 

"5. Your ambition is praiseworthy. Study languages and 
the Art of Government. Your greatest opportunity lies 
in Egypt. Seize the first chance you get of going there. 
Either Jones or Hill can lead you to fame if you earn 
their joint friendship. By my help Jones' father raised 
Lloyd George to his present supreme position. He 
started more humbly than you." 

The Pimple refused to tell us about the questions or answers. 
He did not for a moment suspect that we knew anything of 
either. But at the end of the seance, after a great deal of 
camouflage talk about the camp and the War and other mat- 
ters, he led the conversation round, cleverly enough, to Lloyd 
George, by telling us that an Irishman had attempted to as- 
sinate him. He asked if I knew him. This was what we 
wanted. I showed him a photograph of the Prime Minister 
and my father together. The Pimple examined it with minute 
care. 

"Your father — he is a spooker, too?" the Pimple asked. 

'All Welshmen are, more or less," said I, ''and he used to 
be top-hole at it. Why do you ask?" 

"I wondered if perhaps he and Lloyd George had ever ex- 
perimented together." 

"They're continually at it," said I. 

"Ha!" (the Pimple was quite excited) "and what was Lloyd 
George to begin with, when your father first knew him?" 

"I believe he v/as what some people call a 'pettifogging at- 
torney.' " 

"And by spooking your father did much for him perhaps?" 

"I much regret, Moise, I can't tell you." 

"It's a secret, perhaps?" 

"Very much so," said I. "Let's talk of something else." 

Then the Pimple told us about the Armenian massacres at 
Yozgad. He was a clever little rascal in his way! For in 
five minutes he was telling us how a few families had escaped 
to Egj^t which, he had always heard, was a wonderful country. 
Was it not so? Did we know anything of Egypt? 

We didn't — but we told him quite a lot about the country 



i62 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

of his ''greatest opportunity." He went away very happy. 

"He has swallowed the pill without winking," said Hill, "and 
what's more, it is working! But what '11 Lloyd George think 
of it? How did you get that photograph? Does he really 
know your father?" 

It was my turn to be malicious. 

"S'pose you find out for yourself," said I. "Of course, you 
can ask the Spook, if you like." 



CHAPTER XIV 

WHICH INTRODUCES 000 AND TELLS WHY THE PIMPLE GOT HIS 

FACE SMACKED 

AFTER we had been a week in solitary confinement the 
Spook decided we were sufficiently "in tune" to begin 
the treasure-hunt. The Commandant, now that his 
fears of the consequences from the telepathy trial 
were at rest, had begun to show a little impatience. It was 
time to throw him a sop. Besides, we had now reconnoitred 
the ground, and had gained a good idea of the character of the 
man with whom we had to deal. We were ready for the next 
fence. 

To the Turks the important part of the seances that followed 
was the treasure story. To us, the treasure story was only the 
jam that hid the pill. The seances were really an exposition 
of what goes on in all cases of conversion to spiritualism — the 
development of a theory of spooking which, the Turk (quite 
unconsciously) made his own. We were building up, for 
Kiazim Bey, the Pimple, and the Cook, an experience of spook- 
ing which would give them the proper point of view when 
the time came to propose our migration from Yozgad. For, 
whatever the reader may think to the contrary, the Turk is a 
rational animal who, like everyone else, judges any new idea 
in the light of his own previous knowledge; and so, with iU' 
finite caution, we set to work to stuff him with the fallacious 
experience that was the necessary basis for the conclusion we 
wished him to reach. Had he shared the knowledge as well as 
the faith of some British spiritualists, it would have saved us 
a great deal of time and trouble. But as things were he had 
first to be taught the A B C of spiritualism, without realizing 
that he was being taught anything. ^ 

^ One of our principal assets was "Raymond," which reached the 
camp about the end of February 1918. Moise translated it to the 
Commandant, and read it himself, by order of the Spook. 

163 , 



i64 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

O^^r first treasure seance in the Colonels' House took place on 
the 14th March between 5.30 and 10 p.m. After the usual 
preliminary greetings, the Spook said it would explain a few 
things. I quote the seance record: 

Spook. ^'Death is like birth. For some time after death 
a person is unable to communicate. Gradually he learns how 
to do so, like a child learning to talk. Now, the more violent 
the death, the longer it takes to learn; do you understan'^?" 

Moi'sE. "Yes, we understand." 

Spook. "Well, we do not use voice sounds in this sphere; 
we simply send thoughts, and just as you can stop your voice 
from sounding, so we can stop our thoughts from going out. 
Very few humans can read thoughts among themselves; on 
the other hand, very few of what you call 'spirits' can make 
their voices heard to human ears, and none can read human 
thoughts except by entering into a medium. Do you under- 
stand?" 

Moi'sE. "I think we have understood everything except the 
last part of the sentence." 

Spook. *'By 'entering into a medium' I mean, for example, 
to read thoughts I must do it through Jones or Hill, and my 
success or failure depends as much on their powers as on mine. 
I can put thoughts into a person's head, but I cannot take 
them out. Do you understand?" 

Mo'iSE. "Yes." 

Spook. "Well, when it becomes a question of reading hu- 
man thoughts, I am as ignorant of what I read as the mediums 
are until it is read out, and all I do is to communicate certain 
movements to the. mediums, who in turn communicate them 
to the glass. That is to say I myself act as an intermediary 
medium to a control in a still higher sphere. So you see 
thought-reading demands that not only should the two human 
mediums be in tune between themselves, but also with me, 
and the difficulty of keeping in tune varies as the square of 
distance between the two human mediums, and the human 
whose thoughts have to be read." 

Moi'sE. "Explain more, please." 

Spook. "This has never yet been understood by humans; 
it is very difficult. Listen, please, I will try again. In ordi- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 165 

nary cases you use two mediums, Jones and Hill, In these 
cases I take complete control, and it is I who give the answers. 
In these cases I know what to do and what I am saying. But 
when it is necessary to thought-read a human brain you have 
three mediums — of whom I am one. Do you understand?" 

MoisE. ''Yes." 

Spook. "Now to explain about distance. First, — distance 
has no meaning to me, but it affects the human mediums. 
When you think a thought you cause certain ethereal move- 
ments. Now, my powers are such that distance does not af- 
fect me, but with humans it is different. The further away 
the humans are from the thinker, the harder it becomes for 
them to notice the ethereal movements. If too far away they 
are not affected at all, and to keep in tune they must be affected 
by the movement. Therefore distance is important." 

MoisE. 'Tt is good." 

Spook. "Let me explain further. When you ask a ques- 
tion aloud, your asking it at once puts the mediums in tune 
with one another, because they hear the same thing at the 
same time. But if you are working with three mediums, and 
I catch the ethereal movements while the two human mediums 
do not catch them, then I and the humans are not in tune, 
so you cannot get anything. 'The strength of a chain is that 
of its weakest link.' Now you know something never before 
revealed in your sphere. Do you understand all I said?" 

MoisE. "Yes, go on, please. Thank you for this great 
revelation." 

Spook. "I said I would tell my difficulties. First difficulty 
is that 000 closes his thoughts to me. He has not yet shaken 
off the hatred of your sphere and refuses to benefit those he 
hates." 

Mo'isE. "Who is 000, please? What did you mean by 
000?" 

Spook. "That is his name here." 

Moi'sE. "The name of whom?" 

Spook. "000." 

MoisE. "Who is he there?" 

Spook. "The one whose wealth you seek. He is here now." 

MoiSE. "Go on, please." 

Spook. "He says, if I understand him rightly (as yet he is 



i66 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

not very good at conveying thoughts), that if you are friends 
he can reveal now." 

Moi'sE (aside in excitement, "Mon Dieul") (Aloud) : 
"What does he mean by friends?" 

Spook. "Not those he hates." 

MoiSE. "We don't know if he hates us or not." 

Spook. "Turks. He wants to speak to you himself to see 
if you are friends." 

'MoiSE. "Mr. Jones is a English, Mr, Hill too, and I am 
Ottoman, but not a Turk. Let him speak to us, Sir." 

Spook. "Are you ready? He is going to try." 

Moi'sE. "All right." 

The glass now moved round the board in short, jerky move- 
ments, but did not touch any letters. The jerky movements 
then stopped, and our Spook took control again. 

Spook. "He says the letters are not his letters, but he is 
going to give you a test with these letters. Take down care- 
fully." 

MoiSE. "We are ready." 

(The jerky movements of the glass began again, indicating 
that 000 was in control.) 

000. "INTCHESELGUIZAKHAYERENKIDEK." ^ 

Spook. "Do you understand that?" 

Moi'sE. "I know that it is Armenian, but I cannot under- 
stand it because I do not know Armenian." 

Spook. "000 says 'Thank you, that is exactly what he 
wanted to know. If you do not know Armenian you are no 
friend of his' — (Moi'se, aside, "Mon Dieuf") — and he bids you 
farewell, and may one called ASDUNDAD curse all Turks. 
He is angry and has gone." (Note. — The glass appears very 
angry.) 

Moise. "Who will curse us?" 

Spook (angrily. " ASDU-/-DAD ! " (Moise had noted 
down Asduwdad in error.) 

Moise (nervously). "Thank you, Sir, thank you, Sir. I 
have corrected spelling. What to do now?" 

Spook. "I can find out where the money is in another way. 

*The phrase is borrowed from Spink's Armenian Phrase Book 
(see p. 117), which he compiled from a study of "Lavengro" and a 
dictionary. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 167 

You are very stupid not to have understood simple Armenian, 
though it is not in Armenian characters. If you had under- 
stood he might have told you where the treasure is. (Moise, 
aside, "Mon Dieu!") But never mind, I forgive you. You 
have missed a good chance. (Moise, aside, "Mon Dieu!") I 
am sorry for you. However, in five days I shall be ready with 
a new plan, and I will begin to fulfil my promise and tell you 
how the treasure was hidden. The presence of 000 here to- 
night was a lucky chance that may not occur again. Good- 
night, I am tired." 

Moi'sE. "Good-night, Sir." 

Spook. "Good-night. Hard luck." 

Next day Moise complained to us that the Commandant had 
cursed him for a fool (i) because he did not know Armenian, 
(ii) because his translation of the early part of the seance was 
not understandable in Turkish! ! The poor little man remarked 
that during the seance he understood everything, and knew 
quite well that the Spook was revealing valuable knowledge to 
us, but when he came to read it over afterwards he found that 
his former clarity of vision had departed, and the more he 
studied the record, the more fogged he became. Only one thing 
was quite clear — the strength of thought-waves varied inversely 
with the square of the distance. 

As this was precisely the item of knowledge we wished him 
to imbibe, Hill and I were thoroughly satisfied. We told him 
we also were fogged now, but no doubt we would understand 
it again some day. 

"But," Mo'ise grumbled, "that fool of a Commandant says 
I told lies to the Spook — because I said I understood when I 
didn't! He will not believe I understood at the time." 

"Oh, never mind him, Mo'ise," said Hill, "he's an unedu- 
cated, incredulous ass." 

"He is!" said Moise, with great fervour. "But in one thing 
he was right. I should have asked the name of 000 in this 
world." 

"Why?" I asked. "Don't you know it already?" 

"Oh, yes," said the Pimple, "we know it. We only want to 
see if the name is the same — if it is the same treasure. But 
I can ask next time!" 



i68 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

This was a corker 1 We dared not ask Moi'se for the name 
of the owner of the treasure, and then reproduce it on the 
spook-board, for he might give us a false name as a test. Nor 
did we wish to repeat the hackneyed trick of pretending that 
Spooks have difficulties in giving names, for our Spook had been 
cheerily naming Maule, Gilchrist, and others right along. Of 
course, if the worst came to the worst, the Spook could forget 
the name, and prove from an eloquent and scientific passage 
in '"Raymond" that this was a common failing with spirits.^ 
But we hoped to find a more original way out of the difficulty. 

Before the next treasure seance took place we had some 
success in dealing with the camp's business, which will be 
narrated later. We met again for treasure-hunting from 8.15 
to 11.30 p.m. on March 19th. There were the usual prelimin- 
aries. Then the Spook said — (I again quote the record) : 

Spook. "Now, about 000. I have found out a lot about 
him." 

Mo'isE. "Had you much work before you found out? And 
will you tell us how you did it?" 

Spook. "It is very hard, and it is difficult to tell you about 
him, because he and his friends are struggling to control the 
mediums." (The glass here began to move jerkily, indicat- 
ing 000.) "Look out. Stop!" (We stopped, in obedience 
to Moise, who was greatly excited.) 

Spook. "When the glass begins jerking like that it means 
I have lost control, and the mediums must stop at once, as 
000 is in control. Do you understand?" 

Mo'isE. "We understand. Would you like to tell us what 
sort of a struggle it is?" 

Spook. "Mental struggle, but do not go into side questions 
to-night, as there is much opposition." 

Mo'iSE. "All right. Sir." 

Spook. "Keep cool, Moi'se! You are too excited, and will 
influence the mediums." 

MoiSE. "Right Sir. I will keep cool. Will you go on?" 

Spook. "000 was a shrewd man. He was closely con- 
nected with a certain secret organization ^ about which the 

* See "Raymond," pp. 360-361. 

' Such a secret organization of Armenians actually existed. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 169 

Sup.'- has heard. As soon as Russia declared war he foresaw 
that Turkey would come into it, and at once began quietly 
to " (the glass began jerking again). 

MoisE. "Stop, Jones! Stop, Hill 1 Stop I Stop I Stop!" 
(As Hill and I were in a "half-trance" Moise had to shout 

loudly to stop us. After a pause the Spook continued) 

"realize his wealth and convert it into gold. Damn you! Go 
away!" (Glass jerked again.) 

Moi'sE. "Stop, Jones! Stop, Hill! Stop! Stop!" 

(We stopped.) 

MoiSE (aside). "Why was he damning us?" 

Spook. "I was talking to 000." 

MoisE. "I understand." 

Spook. "Well, before Turkey declared war 000 began to 
bury his gold." (Jerks again, and a pause.) "He hid it in a 
place known only to himself, nor did he ever tell anybody to 
his dying day. He was afraid to tell his relations in case they 
might reveal the secret under torture. Well, when Turkey 
entered the War, 000 contributed a large sum of gold to the 
Armenian Association, and realized his debts as far as possible. 
When the Armenians joined the Russians, he knew a massacre 
was likely. His difficulty then was this: if he told nobody 
where the money was hidden, then he might be killed and his 
family would derive no benefit from his wealth. On the 
other hand, if he told his family they might reveal the secret 
under pressure. Do you know what he did? This is where 
I shall meet strong opposition. I want to see if the mediums 
are in good tune. Tell them to rest a moment, and we will 
see if they are in good tune." 

Moi'sE (to Jones and Hill). "Rest a moment. Rest a mo- 
ment." (We took our fingers off the glass.) 

Jones and Hill (absolutely simultaneously, and a propos 
of nothing). "I say, Moise, we want a walk tomorrow! " 

MoisE. "How do you think they are? Do you think they 
are in tune? Are you satisfied?" 

Spook. "That was quite good. Don't you think so, 
Moise?" 

MoisE. "Yes, I think so." 

*"Sup." — "the Superior." The Spook's name for the Comman- 
dant. 



I70 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Spook. "It was very nearly trance-talk — well " (angrily 

to 000) — "Now see here, I am stronger than you! You 
may as well give up. I am going to tell in spite of you! 
Moi'se, if I am interrupted " 

Moi'sE. "Stop! Stop!" (Moise was very excited and 
thought the Spook had said *I am interrupted.' After a pause 
we continued) : 

Spook. "I repeat, if I am interrupted, as the mediimis are 
in tune, let us fight it out with 000." 

Moi'sE. "Yes, I understand." 

Spook. "Take down carefully! The opposition may some- 
times manage to get to the wrong letters, but take everything 
down." 

MoiSE. "I will try. Try to write slowly because I could 
make mistakes. I will do my best. I am ready." (At this 
point the glass began moving very slowly in evident effort, 
getting near a letter and then being forced away. Moise said 
afterwards that he could see the whole fight going on, and that 
it was wonderful to watch. Both mediums were affected, 
breathed heavily, and got very tired. The struggle is indi- 
cated in the text by capitals where resistance was greatest. 
The remarks in brackets are explanatory notes and ejaculations 
by Moi'se. The portions in brackets and italics were those 
written by the opposition, when they succeeded in getting 
control, though of course Moi'se only discovered this after- 
wards.. Mo'ise, unfortunately, forgot the Control's injunction 
to keep cool: he got more and more excited, with disastrous 
results, as will be seen below.) 

Spook. "000 therefore made THREE C-L-U-E-S A-L-L 
ALIKE. {Asduidad! Asduidad!) One named the place from 
which to M-E-A-S-U-R-E, one the DIS-T-ANCE, and the third 
gave the D-I-R-E-C-T-I-O-N." (Quickly.) "Rest— very 
good! Very good. Rest." (Note: Mediums exhausted.) 

Spook (continuing after a rest). "Well, he wrote out these 
three clues on three pieces of paper; each was written in a 
peculiar way so that nobody would guess they were clues to 
treasure, if they were found. He then took three pieces of 
paper and W-R-A-P-P-E-D a S-A-M-P-L-E in each, enclosed 
each in a S-E-P-A-R-A-T-E R-E-C-E-P-T-A-C-L-E AND 
B-U-R-I-E-D (Asduidad! Asduidad/) E-A-C-H separately, 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 171 

having first covered each receptacle with a thick coating of 
fat to prevent rust. Good. Very Good. One more struggle, 
and that will be enough for to-night. Rest." (Mediums 
rested.) 

Spook (continuing). "Now his fear was if he told one 
man where all these were buried that man might dig them up 
and then keep the treasure; so he said nothing about treasure 
to anybody. His plan was this: he selected three persons 
he knew were likely to remain alive; let us call them by their 
names, WHICH W-E-R-E {Asduidad! Asduidad!) Steady! 
they are beating me." (Moi'se, excitedly, "My God!") "Did 
THEY SAY THAT WORD, WORD WORD?" 

Moi'sE. "Yes." 

Spook. "And why did you help them, Moise? You called 
too, and that has beaten me." (Moise, aside, "My God!") 

Spook. "There you go again. I am BEATEN. {What 
did you say, Moise, what did you say? Moise I repeat those 
ejaculations!)'' 

MoisE. "I said 'My God!'" 

Spook. "{Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!) Oh, Moise, I can never 
give the names now! Three times you called on your God. 
Three times they succeeded in doing the same. I am beaten! 
Rest. I will explain." (Mediums, who were now utterly ex- 
hausted, rested.) 

During the pause, Moise accused himself, but could not 
understand why the Control should have laughed. The Spook 
apparently must have listened to Moise's remarks, for he gave 
the following interesting explanation. 

Spook. "No, no, Moise, you do not understand. Owing 
to your saying that ejaculation twice, I had lost control, 
They" (emphatically) "took charge and made you say it a 
third time. Then they burst out laughing. It does not mat- 
ter much. It makes it a little harder for you, because hence- 
forth they can always stop me from giving the name." 

MoisE. "I am very sorry. I could not know that the 
fact of sa5dng 'My God!' would make such a difference." 

Spook. "The mediums are not to blame. The reason why 
your saying those words made such a difference was because 
They" (000 and his friends) "were saying the same thing. 
That puts you in tune with them instead of with me. It was 



172 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

for this reason I warned you at the beginning not to get 
excited. I never say anything without cause!" 

MoiSE. ''I am very sorry indeed, Sir." 

Spook. "Never mind, listen! 000 went to each of the 
three separately. What names shall we give them to distin- 
guish them?" 

Moi'sE. "I do not understand, Sir." 

'Spook. "/" (emphatically) "cannot name them now." 

Moi'sE. "Call them AAA, YYY, and KKK." 

Spook. "Yes. 000 went to AAA secretly, and said to 
him, T have hidden a certain thing in a certain place.' He 
described exactly the place where the first clue is hidden. He 
said to AAA, 'If I die, send for YYY, and do what he says.' 
Then he made AAA swear a great oath never to reveal what 
had been told him. He then went secretly to YYY and told 
him where the second clue was buried. He said, Tf I die, 
someone will send for you and show you a token. When that 
happens send for KKK.' He gave tokens to both AAA and 
YYY. Then he went to KKK, an'3, putting him on oath, he 
told him where the third clue was buried, and said, Tf I die, 
two persons will send for you. You will know them by their 
tokens. When this happens all three of you go to my heir, 
and tell him what I have told you. YYY and KKK are dead. 
I must stop, as the mediums are getting exhausted." (Mediums 
rested.) (Continuing) : "No more about the treasure tonight." 

Moi'sE. "I am sorry for what I said." 

Spook. "All right. It does not matter. We can get round 
it. What else do you want to ask?" 

MoisE. "Mr. Jones wants to know if he and Mr. Hill can 
have a little more food tomorrow." ^ 

Spook. "Certainly. And listen! They may have anything 
they want for 24 hours. I give them a complete holiday 

^ Since the 14th, the Spook had controlled our diet, allowing us 
no meat, but "tomorrow" (20th March) was the Ski Club dinner, 
and we wanted a "bust" before going on to bare bread. We were 
starving in preparation for a medical examination, should the "es- 
cape" plan fail. We tried (by secret signal to Matthews) to stop 
Posh Castle from sending us food from the 14th March, but our 
friend Price insisted on continuing until after the big dinner at 
least, and would have gone on for ever in the face of any opposi- 
tion but our own. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 173 

because they have done very well to-night. After 24 hours 
they must begin living on bread alone — no cooked food. This 
is necessary to counter-balance the mistake made by the sitter 
to-night. Twenty-four hours' freedom to do what they like, 
then semi-starvation till first clue is found. Tomorrow at noon 
I shall give some advice to the Sup. Next treasure seance 
after five days. Good-night." 
MoiSE. Good-night, Sir." 

Moi'se was almost in tears at the failure. Over and over 
again he abused himself for having forgotten the Spook's in- 
junction to keep cali.i. He explained, pitifully, that he had 
not intended to name the Divinity. ''Mon Dieu!" is a com- 
mon, everyday expression of surprise in France, where he had 
been educated, and he had merely used the English equivalent. 
Besides, he did not know that "Asduidad" was the Armenian 
for God, as the local Armenians pronounced the word ^'Asdvad." 
How was he to know he was getting into tune with the oppo- 
sition? If he had only kept silence, we would have got the 
names, and it would not have taken long to make their owners 
tell what they knew! Now the names were hidden for ever! 
And so on. 

We consoled him, and saw him to the gate, for he was very 
excited and very nervous as to what the Spook might do to 
him. Then Hill and I waltzed together in the little yard, for 
we had got out of the difficulty as to the name of the hider 
of the treasure, and the blame lay not with the Spook, nor 
with us, but with the Turks. We had also created a most 
useful "opposition" and taught the Turks — by experience — that 
the Spook depended largely for its success on our conduct, 
and on that of the Pimple, the Cook, and the Commandant. 
Lastly the Pimple's only criticism of our Stevensonian treasure 
story had been to marvel at the cleverness of 000. He had 
swallowed the yarn whole. 

From our window we could see South hill gleaming white 
in the moonlight. Beside a rock in the snow the first clue 
lay buried. With luck, we'd dig it up quite soon, and photo- 
graph the Commandant in the process. Hill took extra pains 
in his practice at palming the camera that night. 

And next morning the poor little Pimple came to us more 



I7i THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

nearly in tears than ever. His face was very red. The Com- 
mandant, he told us, had just smacked it because he had called 
three times upon his God. 

"And indeed," wailed the Pimple, "perhaps I should have 
known, for three is a mystic number I" 

But all the same he shook his first in the direction of Kiazim 
Bey's office. 



CHAPTER XV 

IN WHICH THE SPOOK PUTS OUR COLONEL ON PAROLE IN HIS 
TURN, SAVES THE HUNT CLUB, AND WRITES A SPEECH 

IN the interval between the treasure seances we interfered 
as much as possible with the administration of the camp, 
the Spook butting in wherever an occasion offered with 
suggestions for the amelioration of the lot of our com- 
rades. Our most successful effort was in connection with the 
Hunt Club. 

Shortly before we had got ourselves locked up, some fifteen 
or twenty officers had decided to form a Hunt Club. The 
idea was to purchase greyhounds, and, with Kiazim's permis- 
sion, to hunt once or twice a week over the hills in the neigh- 
bourhood. The membership of the Club was strictly limited, 
for it was thought that Kiazim would not allow more than a 
few officers to be out at the same time, as the number of spare 
sentries at his disposal was small. 

Hill and I knew no more of the matter than that the idea 
was being entertained by a select few, and was being kept 
secret. A few days after we had been imprisoned the Pimple 
informed us that the Commandant had granted permission for 
the Club to be formed, that a couple of long dogs had been 
bought, and that there was a good deal of ill-feeling in the 
camp amongst the eighty odd officers who had been left out 
in the cold and were not members of the combine which had 
made this "corner" in cross-country exercise. We decided 
to try to get Kiazim to extend his permission not only to 
members but to anyone who wanted to hunt. But we could 
not see how to interfere. 

On the isth March we were informed by the Pimple, in 
the course of his usual daily visit, that the Commandant was 
"what you say in a hole." It appeared that, when he gave 

175 



176 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

permission for the formation of a Hunt Club, he had over- 
looked a standing order which strictly forbade such organiza- 
tions. Communications had now been received from Constan- 
/ tinople drawing his attention to the order and reiterating the 
prohibition of all hunting for prisoners. 

Constantinople orders must be obeyed, so Kiazim was going 
to the camp next day to withdraw his permission and close 
down the Club. That night Hill and I discussed the matter 
and formed our plans. We must interfere to save the Hunt 
Club. We decided to pit the authority of the Spook against 
that of the Turkish War Office. 

On the 1 6th we sent the Cook with a note to the Pimple 
telling him that the spook-board had been rapping and tapping 
and making curious noises all night, and we thought the Spook 
wanted to communicate something. The Pimple came at once, 
and we began our sitting. 

The Spook began by warning MoTse not to tell the mediums 
what the glass was writing, because if he did so the mediums 
would refuse to go on, as the information concerned their 
fellow-officers. If Jones or Hill questioned him afterwards 
about the seance, he was to say that the Spook had been 
arranging for him an introduction to a certain beautiful lady, 
and that the matter was private. 

Then we settled down to it. The glass wrote steadily, 
Moise getting more and more excited, but keeping silent ex- 
cept for an occasional studiously innocent ejaculation. He 
thought, of course, that we did not know what was being 
written. 

The Spook said It wanted to save the Commandant from 
disgrace. He had made a bad mistake in giving permission 
for a Hunt Club, but he would make a much worse one if he 
carried out his intention of prohibiting it. Such action would 
make the camp exceedingly angry with Kiazim Bey, and the 
thought-waves they generated against him would be of the 
greatest assistance to 000 and the opposition. They would 
"block" the treasure messages! Further, at present the 
prisoners were happy and contented. Nobody wanted to 
escape. But, as sure as Kiazim lived, his one hope of pre- 
venting escape (which would disgrace him) lay in keeping his 
promise. The best way of angering an Englishman was to 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 177 

break your promise to him, and if the breaking of the promise 
touched his pocket ^ as well as his comfort, the Englishman 
became quite madly unreasonable, while the Scotsmen (and 
the camp was full of them) turned into wild beasts. They 
could no more stop the prisoners from breaking out than they 
could stop the sea. Therefore it behoved Kiazim Bey to be 
careful. If he riled the camp many would run away, not sa 
much with the idea of reaching England, which was hopeless^ 
as in order to secure the removal of the Commandant from 
his post; and the most likely of all to do this was Colonel 
Maule, who — as he knew from experience — was a nasty, 
vicious, spiteful fellow where his physical exercise was con- 
cerned. 

"Now," said the Spook, "what you fear is that one or more 
of these fellows will escape while out hunting, and then you 
will get into trouble with tfie War Office for allowing them 
to hunt in the face of orders. If you take my advice, nothing 
of this will happen. Constantinople will not know. I shall 
arrange everything for you. You need only concern yourself 
with Maule — I shall see to the rest. Go to Maule AT ONCE. 
Tell him of the standing order. Say you had overlooked it 
when you gave permission for the Club, but that you will not 
go back on that permission now, although it may get you into 
trouble, if he will meet you halfway. Then ask him for his 
parole not to escape while out hunting, and tell him you 
expect him to hold himself responsible that none of the others 
in the Hunt Club will use it as a means to escape. If you 
do this I guarantee everything will be all right. But if you 
persist in your decision to vdthdraw your promise, you will 
be helping 000 & Co. and will have extra difficulty in finding 
the treasure." 

The seance ended about 3.30 p.m. The Pimple said he had 
no time to tell us anything. He went off hotfoot to the Com- 
mandant. By 6.30 he was back. He burst into our room in 
great excitement as we were starting dinner, and cried out: 

"It is all over! Wonderful! Wonderful! It is marvel- 
lous!" 

"What is wonderful?" we asked. 

* The greyhounds were expensive — about £120 each, I believe. 



178 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Then Mo'ise remembered that he had been forbidden to 
tell us of the Spook's advice. His face was a study. 

"What is wonderful?" we repeated. 

''The — the beautiful lady," he stammered. "She — she was 
very kind to me ! The Spook — the Spook introduced us." He 
plunged into a long and confused story, to which we listened 
with the utmost solemnity of a superlatively beauteous damsel 
whom he said he had discovered under the Spook's guidance in 
one'of the back streets of Yozgad. 

At a later seance he asked for permission to tell us the 
whole story. The Spook gave it. We then learned that the 
Commandant had gone to Colonel Maule at once, and carried 
out the Spook's instructions. The Colonel had gladly given 
his own parole not to escape whilst out hunting, and had added 
that as President of the Club he had already taken a similar 
parole from all other members of the Hunt, and therefore the 
Commandant might be quite easy in his mind that the privilege 
he had granted would not be abused! 

This was one of a number of coincidences which greatly 
added to the renown of our Spook. Colonel Maule had taken 
these paroles from our fellow-officers after we had left the 
camp, and neither Hill nor I knew anything about them. We 
could almost equally well have persuaded Kiazim Bey to let 
his promise stand without sending him to Maule at all, and 
our object in sending him was to get a playful smack at our 
Senior Officer by putting him on parole as a quid pro quo for 
the paroles he had taken out of us. Indeed this was why 
the Spook limited Kiazim's attentions to the Colonel, who we 
know had no intention of escaping, and forbade interference 
with the rest of the camp. But after Maule's statement, fol- 
lowing so naturally on the Spook's promise, nothing on earth 
would have convinced Kiazim that it was Maule himself (and 
not the Spook acting through him) who had put the others 
on parole. The incident became for the Turks one more 
marvellous example of our Spook's power of controlling the 
minds of others, and in the face of this experience Kiazim 
readily believed that the Spook would keep Constantinople in 
ignorance of his disobedience to orders. So permission was 
graciously granted, and the Hunt Club became one of the 
institutions of Yozgad. The authors of "450 MUes to 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 179 

Freedom" called it "the most useful" of the concessions granted 
at Yozgad. "Some of the happiest recollections of our cap- 
tivity," they say, "are those glorious early mornings in the 
country, far away from the ugly town which was our prison. 
Here, for a few brief hours, it was almost possible to forget 
that we were prisoners of war." Hill and I are very glad of 
that! 

It is of course possible that the Commandant would have 
disobeyed his own Government without the interference of 
Hill and myself. Perhaps the camp could have saved the 
position off its own bat. Perhaps the parole not to escape 
would have been sufficient of itself to induce the Commandant 
to disobey his own War Office. But we doubt it very much. 
There were other factors that counted more in his decision. 
These were, his belief that Constantinople would never know, 
his fear that if he angered the camp escapes would certainly 
take place, and his dread lest the Spook communication about 
the treasure be "blocked" by ranging the thought-waves of 
the camp against himself and on the side of 000. 

So elated were we by our success that four days later, on 
the 20th March, we laid a plot to commit Kiazim to an open 
declaration of a friendly policy towards the camp. That night, 
in recognition of his kindness in having given permission for 
ski-ing during the past winter, he was to be the guest of the 
Ski Club at a dinner in Posh Castle. 

We guessed that someone was likely to make a speech 
thanking him for the privilege he had granted. It was easy 
enough to prophesy the sort of thing that would be said, and 
we thought it would be a good stroke to write his reply. 
Therefore, towards the close of a seance held at noon on the 
20th March, the Spook suddenly said: 

"Would the Superior like to make a very popular speech 
tonight? I can help him, though I know he can do it quite 
well himself." 

MoisE. "Certainly. He would like to m£^e a very popu- 
lar speech." 

Spook. "Well, begin by saying what he already intends 
to say about the pleasure it has given him to meet with the 
officers on so friendly a footing. Then let him go on as fol- 
lows: — 'That our respective countries are at war is no reason 



i8o THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

why there should be any personal rancour between us. It 
rejoices my heart to think that the past winter has done so 
much to create a better understanding. I for my part have 
learned through your Ski Club that you Englishmen will not 
necessarily abuse any privilege granted to you. You, on your 
part, have, I hope, realized that I am anxious to concede every 
possible liberty I can to add to your happiness. The only 
condition I set before you is that no special concession I grant 
should be abused. I feel now, after this winter, that there is 
none of you who will abuse my confidence. Since the days of 
your Crusades, Turks and English have mutually admired one 
another: let us do nothing in Yozgad to lessen that admiration. 
Gentlemen, I sympathize with you in your misfortune of war, 
and I shall try to make your stay in Yozgad as pleasant as 
possible. As soldiers you know that regulations are regula- 
tions, and must be obeyed. But sometimes it may be possible 
to grant you little extra privileges. As officers I know your 
great desire is to get back to fight for your country. As gen- 
tlemen I know none of you would abuse my confidence or use 
any extra liberty I give you, for the purpose of getting away. 
Gentlemen, I ask you to drink to our better friendship, and I 
couple the toast with the name of the officer who has done so 
much to improve our mutual understanding — ^Lieut. Spink." ^ 

Moi'sE. "Has he to say that in Turkish or get the English 
copy and present it at the end of the dinner?" 

Spook. "A very good suggestion, Moise." 

MoisE. 'Anything more, Sir?" 

Spook. "This should be given as a reply to a speech. He 
can add anything he likes in answer to other speeches. Note, 
this is only a suggestion. I am anxious to help the Sup. when 
I can." 

Moi'sE. "That is very kind of you. What about YYY and 
KKK?" 

Spook. "No treasure business today. Good-bye." 

Several hours later, about 5 p.m., Moise came to us in a 
state of great excitement, and said, "Major Gilchrist has just 

* Spink was the originator of ski-ing in Yozgad, and to his tact 
in dealing with the Commandant the credit of the Ski Club is due. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR i8i 

given me a speech to translate into Turkish. It is to be given 
to the Commandant tonight. I am sure the Spook has written 
this also. Let us ask him." 

We got out the Ouija, and Moise read the speech aloud to 
the Control. The speech was as follows: 

''M. le Commandant^ and Gentlemen. We are assembled 
here to-night by the kind permission of the Commandant to 
celebrate the end of the Ski season. During the past three 
and a half months we have been very fortunate in having had 
excellent snow and suitable weather for ski-ing, but this would 
have availed us nothing if the Commandant, with a truly 
sporting spirit, had not stretched a point and allowed us full 
vent for our energies. If the Commandant looks at those 
assembled here, I am sure he will agree that we all show by 
our fitness the great benefit he has conferred on us by allowing 
us so much freedom to get exercise and plenty of fresh air. 
Gentlemen, I ask you to rise with me and drink the health of 
the Commandant according to our usual custom, with musical 
honours. 'For he's a jolly good fellow, etc' " 

Moi'sE (to Control). "Is your speech in reply to this?" 
Spook. "Of course it is, you might have guessed it." 
Moi'sE. "We did guess it, Sir. Thank you very much in- 
deed. It is wonderful," 

What really was wonderful was the fact that Gilchrist should 
have hit upon the idea of getting his speech written out in 
Turkish to be handed to Kiazim Bey at the dinner — and that 
the very same idea should have cropped up in our seance a few 
hours earlier. For Kiazim, with the Spook's approval, was 
to hand in an English copy in the same way! So far as I am 
aware the handing over of a written translation of a speech 
had never been thought of at a previous function in Yozgad. 
It was another of those coincidences which may help the reader 
to sympathize with our victims' belief in the powers of the 
Spook. Indeed, it is not a bad parallel to the "Honolulu in- 
cident" in "Raymond" and I may be considered wrong in call- 
ing it a "coincidence." Spiritualists would no doubt find an, 
easy explanation in "telepathy." Pah! 

Bimbashi Kiazim Bey spent the afternoon in learning his 
speech by heart, and delivered it in great style at the dinner 



182 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

that night, to the accompaniment of uproarious cheering, which 
we could hear from our room. Next day the English copy 
of it was posted up on the camp notice-board. A good many 
people thought the English too idiomatic to be the Pimple's 
composition, but no one knew who had written it, and the 
general impression was that the Commandant was showing 
signs of being a reformed character. 

The five courses of the Ski Club dinner were sent over to 
us by our good friends in Posh Castle, and a bottle of raki 
with them. The Spook, it will be remembered, had luckily 
given us a complete holiday to eat what we liked on this day. 
(This was not a coincidence but the reverse.) We knew it was 
likely to be our last decent meal for many a long day, and we 
did full justice to it. For in response to repeated and urgent 
secret signals from us, Price had at last consented to send us 
no more food, and henceforward, until we had beaten the 
doctors, our diet was to be bread and tea. In the lean days 
that lay ahead, in misery and sickness and starvation, that 
dinner was to be a very joyous memory to both of us. 

Indeed, from the soup to the raki liqueur, it was a notable 
feast, and it heartened us. When we had finished we stood 
at our window, listening to the songs and laughter and cheering 
from across the way, and peppered the Posh Castle windows 
with our pea-shooters by way of accompaniment. One of the 
guests, who had drowned his sorrows with some thoroughness, 
staggered out into Posh Castle yard for a little fresh air, and 
sat him against the wall, his head in his hands, close beside a 
large tin bath. We collected snow, and snow-balled him from 
our retreat. When we missed him, we hit the bath, till it 
boomed like a 4.7. The poor fellow was too far gone to realize 
what was happening. He apostrophised the bath as a "noisy 
blighter," and every time he was hit called the empty world 
to witness that it was a "dirty trick, a dirty trick to shtop a 
flow shleeping." A particularly nasty smack finally brought 
him to his feet and he rushed back into Posh Castel roaring 
out something about the "neshessity for instant action by 
counter attacksh." An hour later the company broke up and 
as the sentries marshalled them under our windows, prepara- 
tory to marching them to their respective homes, we thrust 
out our heads and sang them a lullaby: 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 183 

"We'll all go thought-reading to-day, ' 

In prison it's not very gay; 
But a raki or two makes a difference to you. 
So we'll all go thought-reading to-day." 

There was a second's silence down below, a silence with 
something of consternation in it: then Winnie Smith bellowed 
out: 

"It's Bones and Hill! Good lads! Keep your tails up! 
Three cheers for the criminals!" 

A yell of greeting went up from the crowd. The sentries, 
alarmed at this disobedience of the Commandant's orders, be- 
gan to hustle them, but Winnie shouted again. 

"Hush, Winnie," said a voice we recognized. *'Do you want 
the whole camp hanged? Come away and leave 'em." And 
Winnie was dragged off by his mentor. But at the corner 
he drowned all expostulation in a cheery "Good-night" to us. 
Thank you, Winnie! Everybody knows you are a happy-go- 
lucky, impulsive, generous, and most injudicious young rascal, 
but you have a heart of gold to a friend in trouble. Hill and 
I weren't in trouble, of course, but you thought we were. 

On the 2 1 St March, in accordance with the Spook's orders, 
our diet was reduced to toast and tea. To begin with our 
allowance was one pound of dry bread a day. Later we re- 
duced it to eight ounces. Our diet had to be lowered more 
suddenly than was intended by the Spook originally, "in 
order to counteract Moise's mistake at the last seance." ^ On 
this we were taken for our first (and only) walk. We felt 
very empty. 

22nd March. — "On his morning visit," my diary reads, 
"Moise told us that the Commandant's wife cannot sleep for 
thinking of the treasure. With a view to explaining their com- 
ing access of wealth, she and her husband have started a 
rumour that they have sold some property in Constantinople. 
Moise has started a similar rumour about himself. He tells 
us that relations between the treasure-hunters are getting 
strained, and unless the Spook apportions shares in the 
treasure, there will be trouble. The Cook says he will not 
be put off with a small share, and unless the Commandant 

* Really because time was getting short and we must soon face 
the doctors. 



i84 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

gives him at least a quarter he will report the whole business 
to the War Office." 

23rd March. — "A quiet day. Affairs still strained between 
the Commandant and the Cook, who is a man of one idea, 
— money!'" The Spook refuses to interfere or to apportion the 
shares." 

24th March. — ''The low diet is working wonders. Hill and 
I are getting beautifully into tune. Several times during his 
visit Moise noticed that we both made the same remark in 
the same words at the same moment. 'Your two minds,' said 
he, 'are obviously rapidly becoming one mmd.' " 

Of course they were! But the Pimple never knew what a 
lot of practice it took to do it naturally. 




CO 



O n! 
O bo 



CHAPTER XVI 

HOW WE FELL INTO A TRANCE AND SAW THE FUTURE 

OUR next seance, held on the 24th March, purported 
to be an explanation of and an introduction to that 
special species of trance talk which appeals to all 
superstitious minds — the reading of the future. 
The real lesson which we wished the Turk unconsciously to 
assimilate was the fact that a "ray" exists — called by the 
Spook the "telechronistic ray" — which preserves both the past 
and the future in the present for anyone who can get into 
touch with it, and that Jones and Hill were developing the 
power to get into touch with it. At the time, the Turks paid 
very little attention to the telechronistic ray. Their interest 
was centred in the trance-talk description of the future finding 
of the treasure. But later on, when the Spook offered to 
disclose, under proper conditions, the whereabouts of all hidden 
treasures, the Turks remembered their lesson and themselves 
quoted the "telechronistic ray" seance as an argument in fa- 
vour of the Spook being able to fulfil its offer. 

Further, the trance-talk picture of the future was intended 
to be a very gentle introduction of the idea^ that when the 
treasure was discovered the mediums would be away from 
Yozgad, because they would send news of its whereabouts by 
letter. 

The seance is no doubt poor stuff from a metaphysical point 
of view, but it was good enough for the Turks, and I quote 
it in full as an example of the way in which we entangled our 
victims in a labyrinth of confused reasoning. For it must 
always be borne in mind that a medium can have no more 
valuable asset in his sitter than a theory of spooking, and the 
more ill-defined, tortuous and confused that "theory" may be, 
the easier it becomes to hoodwink its exponent. The really 
dangerous man to a medium is not at all the gentleman pos- 

185 



i86 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

sessed of a vast knowledge of spooks and their ways, and 
consequently prepared to explain phenomena in the light of 
that knowledge, but the ordinary everyday man, without any 
theories of the supernatural and preferably with a good knowl- 
edge of conjuring, of logic, and of the tricks of the cross- 
examiner, who will apply to what he sees and hears the tests 
of his every-day experience. Confusion, in one form or an* 
other, is the alpha and omega of the medium's stock in trade. 
The seance opened with a little speech by Moise. We en- 
couraged him — or rather, the Spook did — to make these 
speeches, and gradually he formed the habit of writing them 
beforehand so as to make sure of omitting nothing of im- 
portance. In time, they amounted to a report of everything 
that had happened in connection with ourselves or with the 
rest of the camp since the last seance. In this way our knowl- 
edge was kept up to date, and we gained much important 
information. The speeches were delivered — not to us, but to 
the piece of tin which was our spook-board, and which Moise 
always addressed as "Sir." It contained for him as real a 
personality as the idol does for the savage, and he treated it 
with similar reverence. He lied to us, in our capacity as 
ordinary mortals, with a face of brass, but he never lied to his 
sacred piece of tin. Picture him, then, leaning over the board 
with paper and pencil ready to take down the Spook's answer 
while we set our fingers on the glass, and as wooden as pos- 
sible an expression on our faces, and listened to his oration. 

Seance in Colonels' Home, 24th March, 5 p.m. to 7.45 p.m. 

Moise. "Good evening, Sir. Before starting the treasure 
business, let me first thank you for the speech you made for 
the Commandant to say at the Ski Club dinner. I think 
everybody was pleased. I did not come before to thank you 
because you gave us the order not to trouble you before five 
days; but I do so now. Second, I beg your pardon again for 
having so etourdiment ejaculated in the last seance, and I am 
ready, if possible, in order to correct the wrong I may have 
done, to share the hardships and restrictions you have inflicted 
on the mediums, if you think it convenient." 
; Spook. "Thank you. Later on I may require your help. 
iNot now." 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOlC 187 

Moi'sE. "I am ready at any time." 

Spook. "I am going to prepare you for trance-talk. I am 
going to explain a very difficult thing. First, what time is it?" 

MoisE, "It is ten minutes past five, according to camp 
time, ten minutes past ten by Turkish time." 

Spook, "When eleven o'clock comes will the present time 
be dead and gone?" 

MoisE. "Will you explain, please?" 

Spook. "Is yesterday still here or not? Is to-morrow here 
yet?" 

Moi'sE. "We think that to-morrow is not here yet. We 
don't quite understand." 

Spook. "It is difficult. Is last year here now?" 

MoisE. "No, it is not. We are in 19 18 now." 

Spook. "Is next year here now?" 

Moi'sE. "No, we think it is not here." 

Spook. "Quite so. You think the past is one thing, and 
the future is another, and the present a third. Is it not so?" 

Moi'SE. "I will say there are three things altogether." 

Spook. "I will try and show that you are wrong — that 
both the future and the past exist together now. But it is 
hard to explain because all human languages are deficient in 
the words I require. For instance, the phrase 'in tune' does 
not express exactly what I mean by it, nor does the French 
phrase 'en rapport' nor the Greek Vu/x7rd ^eia '; nor any 
phrase in any human language. Well, you know sound can 
be trapped, for you have a clumsy method of doing it. Do 
you understand?" 

MoiSE, "The phonograph method?" 
• Spook. "Quite so. A past sound existing in the present. 
Is it not so?" 

(Moi'se consulted the mediums, and after a discussion, went 
on.) 

Mo'isE. "Jones says that the phonograph is only a record 
of a sound, it is not a sound existing at the present." 

Spook. "Stupid, the sound is there. All that is required 
is the proper instruments and conditions to bring it out. Do 
you understand?" 

Moi'sE. "Yes, we understand that." 

Spook. "Now, look at the fire." 



i88 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Moi'sE. "Yes, I am looking." 

Spook. "Would you say it is burning now, or would you 
not?" 

Moi'sE. "Yes, we would." 

Spook. "Why do you say it is blazing now — at present?" 

Moi'sE. "Because we see it." 

Spook. "Quite so. Again, say something, Moise." (Moi'se 
spoke.) "You are talking now, now, now, are you not?" 

MoisE. "Yes, I am." 

Spook. "How do the mediums know?" 

Moi'sE. "Because they hear me." 

Spook. "Because you see and hear a thing you say it is 
happening in the present. Is it not so?" 

Moi'sE. "Yes. It is so." 

Spook. "If you saw one star collide with another star you 
would say, 'Look, that star is at present colliding with that 
other star'; is that so?" 

MoiSE. "Yes, I would." 

Spook. "Then do you think you would be talking sense?" 

Mo'iSE. "We think we are." 

Spook. "Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! Listen. It takes 
what you call a hundred years for the light of some of the 
stars to reach the sphere you live in. So when you see a 
collision you may be watching a thing which really happened 
what you call a hundred years ago. For you it is the present 
time, because the rays of light have preserved it for you for 
all those things you call years. But you are looking at the 
past. Do you understand?" 

MoisE. "I shall say, 'I see the present,' but if I know 
astronomy, by thinking a little I will be persuaded that I am 
not looking at a present thing but a past thing, because the 
rays have taken a long time to reach my eyes." 

Spook. "What I am trying to prove is this: even to your 
imperfect senses, the past can exist in the present, also the 
future can exist in the present." 

Moise. "How? An example about the future, please. Sir." 

Spook. "Bless you! Your mathematicians, as you call 
them, can fix the next eclipse of the sun to the nearest second. 
Because they happen to have discovered the laws ruling that 
little portion of the field of knowledge, that portion of the 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 189 

future is known and is laid bare in the present. So, in a sense, 
past, present, and future co-exist." 

MoisE. *'No, the knowledge of them co-exists." 

Spook. "Silly. Is the fire existing now, or merely your 
knowledge of it?" 

Moi'sE. "The fire is existing now." 

Spook. "Because you see it?" 

MoisE. "Yes." 

Spook. "Silly. What about the stars?" 

Moi'sE. "You are right! I understand now!" 

Spook. "Time is an artificial division. All time is one. 
Do you understand?" 

MoiSE. "I know" 

Spook. "Past, present, and future all co-exist." 

MoiSE. "Yes." 

Spook. "You do not know all the past — why? Because 
you have not yet discovered the — there is no word for it — call 
it the 'telechronistic ray.' You do not know all the future, for 
the same reason. Do you understand?" 

MoisE. "Give further explanation, please." 

Spook. "As you have seen, light rays and sound rays can 
preserve the past for your ears and eyes. The mathematical 
sense can know the future. In the same way the telechronistic 
rays preserve both the past and the future, for those who can 
develop the faculty to get into touch with the rays. This is 
what I am aiming at with the mediums. Tonight I shall test 
them. They will trance-talk if I am successful, and the sim- 
ple food and solitude have had the desired effect. It must be 
done after dark. You must not interrupt or touch the 
mediums. The unfortunate thing is that as regards the past 
it is always possible for what you call a spirit to interpose 
between the mediums and the ray, like a man standing between 
you and a candle; but as regards the future, it is harder to 
interfere because the future ray is strong, and single, and 
distant like the sun. Do you understand?" 

Moi'sE. "Not understood." 

Spook. "The future is a complete whole, a single blaze. 
It is all existing now, but it exists for you as an undivided 
entity. The past, however, exists for you as a series of small 
telechronistic rays. If I tried to show you a particular event 



190 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

in the past, it being a small event like the candle, it would be 
easy for 000 to interpose between you and the beam, espe- 
cially if he knows the particular candle I want to show. Now, 
do you understand?" 

MoisE. "Yes." 

Spook. "Do not touch the mediums or interrupt." 

MoisE. "No, I will not." 

Spook. "Be in the dark. Take down carefully everything 
they say. Then come back to me after they have recovered. 
Also note: it will not be me talking through the mediums; it 
will be the mediums themselves interpreting the ray. An 
revoir, until after dark." 

MoisE. "May we have a lamp?" 

Spook (angrily). "No!" 

MoisE. "How can I write?" 

Spook. "Make a small beam of light — a — ^small — ^beam — 
of— light." 

MoisE. "Yes. How?" 

Spook (angrily). "Do it! Or I will not help. Blow your 
own nose! Don't worry me with trifles!" 

Moi'sE. "A candle covered with paper?" 

Spook (interrupting angrily). "In a tin, in a tin!" 

Lest he should make any mistake over the "beam of light" 
Mo'ise decided to write in the dark. He sat at a table at one 
side of the room, while Hill and I sat at the other side. For 
some time there was dead silence. Then Hill and I began to 
grunt, and make strange noises in unison. The noises changed 
gradually from grunts to groans, and from groans to guttural 
sounds, thence to some unknown tongue, and finally into Eng- 
lish. When we had practised together in private (it took a 
lot of practice to get grunt-and-groan-perfect) we had never 
been able to proceed very far without laughing. Indeed it 
was the most ridiculous farmyard concert that mortal man ever 
listened to, and Hill had objected that we ran a great risk of 
laughing or being laughed at and spoiling everything. But 
what is ridiculous in daylight may be intensely eerie in the 
dark. And so it proved. The unhappy Pimple nearly fainted 
vn\h fright, but he stuck to his post and his note-taking with 
a courage that roused our unwilling admiration. He showed 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 191 

us his notes afterwards — the paper was wet from the claminess 
of his hands, and the writing showed clear traces of his jumpi- 
ness. 

We pretended to be describing a scene before our eyes. 
We were following a man who carried a letter. We described 
how the messenger passed through a door into a garden. He 
had great difficulty in closing the door, for something was 
wrong with the latch. We followed him through the garden — 
past the trees and flowers and well, all of which we described — • 
into a house with a curious window that stood out four-square 
to the right of the door. Thence up the steps, inside, through 
a small hall, up a staircase and into a bedroom, detailing the 
furniture and the pictures as we passed each article. We gave 
a minute description of the bedroom, the red carpet, the two 
ottomans, the position of the bed and the cupboard, and we 
were much struck by the enormous footstool on the right of 
the door, the wicker bag on the floor near the bed, and the 
sword on the wall between two pictures. The messenger gave 
the letter to someone on the bed, whom we could not see 
clearly. We heard him call, and a lady came in — a lady with 
very beautiful hands. They went out together, carrying a 
lantern. Another man joined them, with pick and shovel. 
Then everything turned black. There was a pause in the 
trance-talk for perhaps a minute. Then we cried out that we 
saw the group again. They had been digging. We could see 
the hole by the lamplight. They were pulling things out of 
the hole — boxes they looked like! Yes, boxes! The man with 
the pick raised it above his head and smashed open a box, 
and — "Gold! Gold! Gold! " (so loud and so suddenly did we 
shout together that the Pimple leapt to his feet) . Then black- 
ness again, and a reversal of the opening proceedings — we 
lapsed first into the unknown tongue, and thence through the 
guttural sounds to the groans and the little farmyard grunts 
with which we had begun. A few minutes' silence, and Hill 
spoke in his natural voice: 

"I am afraid it's no good!" he said, "nothing is going 
to happen." 

The Pimple struck a match with shaking fingers, and lit the 
lamp. "Something has happened," he said, "you've both been 
in a trance. It was terrible!" 



192 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"Have we?" said I, and looked as dazed as I could. (It is 
easy to look dazed in a sudden glare of light.) "I feel just 
as usual, only very, very tired." 

At the Pimple's request we got out the spook-board and he 
read over the record to the Spook. 

"That was the future," the glass explained; "did you recog- 
nize the picture, Moi'se?" 

MoisE. "No, Sir." 

Spook. "Stupid! What did they find? Who were they? 
What was the house? Don't be silly! You know it well. 
Read it again ! " 

(Moise re-read the record.) 

Moi'sE (in excitement). "Yes, Sir! I recognize it now. 
May I tell the mediums what the picture was?" 

Spook. "Yes. Then no more tO;night. Mediums are much 
improved, but this strains them." 

Moi'sE. "Good-night, Sir, And many thanks." 

Turning to Hill and myself, Moi'se explained that in our 
trance-talk we had given a perfect description of the Com- 
mandant's house. He was half crazed with excitement and 
nervous strain. It was "wonderful," "marvellous," "undoubted 
clairvoyance." He congratulated us "from the base of his 
heart." It was a "beautiful word-picture." It was more — a 
"word-photograph" — and of a house we had never seen! It 
beat the photograph incident in "Raymond" (Moise, by the 
Spook's orders, had just finished translating "Raymond" to the 
Commandant), "for it was much more detailed." He believed 
we were greater spiritualists than Sir Oliver Lodge. "Was it 
so?" "Was it not so?" 

"Oh no, Moise," said Hill. "We are only mediums. He is 
in your position, you know — an investigator and recorder. But 
I suppose it is not unlike the photograph incident, as you say." 

"It is better — far better," said the Pimple. 

I believe it was better. Only it spoils a conjuring trick or 
a psychical phenomenon to explain how it is done, and un- 
fortunately I have already told the reader how Doc. O'Farrell 
described Kiazim's house to me. So the photograph incident 
in "Raymond" will remain a "marvel" while our word-picture is 
simply a fraud. 



CHAPTER XVII 

HOW THE SPOOK TOOK US TREASURE-HUNTING AND WE 
PHOTOGRAPHED THE TURKISH COMMANDANT 

FOR the past fortnight Hill and I had known that a 
number of new prisoners were coming to Yozgad — 44 
officers and 25 men. These were the "Kastamouni 
Incorrigibles." After the escape by Keeling, Tipton, 
Sweet, and Bishop from Kastamouni in 191 7, their comrades 
of Kastamouni Camp had been badly "strafed." The whole 
camp was moved to Changri, where it was housed in the vilest 
conditions imaginable.^ In despair a number of officers gave 
the Turks their parole not to escape, in order to get reasonable 
quarters. The Turks accepted the parole and sent these to 
Gedos. Then Johnny Turk began to wonder why the rest 
would not give parole, and very naturally concluded they must 
be intending to escape. The safest place in Turkey for rest- 
less gentlemen of this description was Yozgad, in the heart of 
Anatolia. So to Yozgad they were sent. 

But at Yozgad the accommodation for prisoners was very 
limited. To make room for all 44 incorrigibles the Turkish 
War Office decided to send 20 of the Yozgad officers to Afion 
Kara Hissar. As soon as this order arrived, Moise came 
across and told us about it. The Commandant wanted the 
Spook to tell him which of the officers at present in Yozgad 
he should send away. Here was a great opportunity. It 
would have been the easiest thing in the world for us to send 
any twenty men we chose to select. We were much tempted 
to despatch to Afion the score whom we considered to be most 
vehemently opposed to all plans of escape. But we held our 

*The curious will find a description in "450 Miles to Freedom." 

193 



194 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

hand. We advised Moise that we thought it wiser not to 
trouble the Spook with details, as the treasure business was 
sufficient worry at present. The Spook had several times told 
us to do as much as possible for ourselves. 

Accordingly the camp was informed of the order in the usual 
way, but when we heard the result we were rather sorry we had 
not exercised our option. Moise told us that the Commandant, 
in answer to enquiries, had said that Yozgad camp was in every 
way 'preferable to Afion. (As a matter of fact it was not.) 
In Yozgad, he said, food was cheaper, the climate better and 
the housing much superior. Result: those officers who had 
at first been tempted by the idea of a change refused to budge. 
Indeed, practically nobody wanted to go, for what with the 
Hunt Club and the Ski dinner speech, and one thing and an- 
other, Yozgad prospects looked decidedly rosy for the summer. 
So, to a diapason of grousing by the victims, the fiat went 
forth that the twenty junior officers should pack up, and our 
Senior Officer did Hill and myself the honour of telling Kiazim 
Bey that, as we were not only juniors but also "the black 
sheep" of the camp, it would be distinctly advisable to include 
us in the twenty. (That "black sheep" phrase hiu"t a little — 
we had never done anybody any harm — but it amused the 
Turks.) Kiazim, who wanted his treasure, refused to move 
us. Amid much grumbling, the twenty made their prepara- 
tions for departure. 

On the 26th March, at 6 p.m. Moise brought the matter up 
in his "report." "I have some news for you. Sir," he said to 
the board. "We have got the order for twenty officers to 
leave for Afion. Their names have been put down. You see 
we are trying to blow. our own noses." (Moi'se had got it into 
his head that this was an English idiom meaning to be self- 
reliant.) "But perhaps you can give us some good suggestions 
as you usually do. I told Colonel Maule we could not move 
the mediums when he asked about them," 

"Quite right," said the Spook, "that is all as I arranged it. 
But I want one small addition. I want Maule to be told that 
the Superior would like to be rid of these two officers, and that 
he would send them away if he could, but he must await 
orders from Constantinople, to whom a report of the trial has 
been sent." (The report was dictated by the Spook and sent 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 195 

to the Turkish War Office on the i8th March.^) "This will 
explain why the Superior does not seize the opportunity to get 
rid of them. It will also explain matters if Constantinople 
wires to send these two away, as it may do. Do not be alarmed 
at that possibility. It will be all my doing, and I know what 
I am doing." 

The object of this was to keep open the possibility of our 
travelling with the Afion party for part of the wny. We hoped 
that by the time they were ready to start, Kiazim would have 
been persuaded by us that the treasure could best be found by 
sending us to the Mediterranean coast. From Yozgad to 
Angora was 120 miles, and transport was scarce. So we in- 
tended to avail ourselves of the government carts provided 
for the Afion party if Kiazim agreed to move us. 

The Turks were now like children in the Hampton Court 
maze when a fog has come down. They were properly lost in 
our labyrinth, and appealed to the Spook to tell them what 
was happening. That capable and inventive gentleman rose 
to the occasion, and gave them a resume of the position. The 
best chance of finding the treasure quickly, the Spook said, 
had been when 000 had offered to point it out if we could 
prove our friendship to him. The Pimple had spoiled that 
chance by his ignorance of Armenian. Indeed, he had done 
worse than spoil it — he had thrown 000 into active opposition, 
and though 000 himself was not much to be feared, being a 
comparatively young and inexperienced spirit, a company had 
now been formed to help him, which contained some of the 
best known organizers in the spirit-world. (Amongst them 
was Napoleon Buonaparte.) 

There remained, the Spook continued, three other plans for 
finding the treasure. Of these the first was to find out every- 
thing from Yozgad through the holders of the three clues — 
KKK, YYY and AAA. This again the Pimple had nearly — 
though not quite — spoiled by inadvertently strengthening the 
opposition. Fortunately KKK and YYY were dead, and as 
they were keenly interested in helping to tear aside the parti- 
tion between this world and the next, our Spook bad been able 
to persuade them to assist in the search, and they were pre- 

* This, we believe, is the first instance in modern times of cor- 
*respondence between a spook and a Government office. 



196 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

pared, as scientific investigators, to try and show themselves 
and make themselves heard to the mediums. Success with 
them would depend on whether or not the starvation diet had 
rendered the mediums sufficiently clairvoyant and clairaudient. 
There remained the holder of the third clue — AAA. AAA be- 
ing still alive — v/e learned that he was a business man in 
Constantinople, whose work frequently took him to Adalia, 
Tarsjjs, Alexandretta, and Damascus — was likely to be our 
chief difficulty, because his mind must be read by telepathy 
and he was so far away that his thought-waves would be weak, 
so the opposition might succeed in blocking them. Still, we 
would try, and must hope for success. 

But, the Spook warned us, the trance-talk had pointed to the 
fact that this plan would not succeed in its entirety, and that 
the treasure would be found by one of two other plans which 
were being held in reserve. Both these plans involved m^oving 
the mediums nearer to AAA — nearer, that is to say, to Con- 
stantinople, Adalia, Tarsis, Alexandretta or Damascus, accord- 
ing as AAA might be in one or the other. 

"The details of these two plans," said the Spook, "I do not 
want to tell at present, because 000 has now got control over 
a medium in Yozgad ^ ; and as you humans cannot control 
your thoughts it is unwise to tell you, lest that medium and 
000 succeed in reading the plan that is in your minds. They 
could then interfere with it." 

To our delight, the Turks took the news that we might have 
to leave Yozgad with the utmost nonchalance. They realized 
that the Spook was doing his utmost to find the treasure with- 
out moving us, and in their hearts they were pretty confident 
he would succeed. Inhere fore they regarded the move as un- 
likely — and forgot all about it for the time being, by reason 
of the other things we provided to occupy their attention. 
For, having mentioned the move, we at once turned their 
attention away from it by bringing forward KKK. 

KKK proved to be a most friendly spirit. Speaking through 
our own Spook he offered to conduct us next day to the spot 
where his clue was buried. But he laid down certain con- 
ditions : 

* A most unfortunate explanation, as events proved. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 



197 



Conditions laid down by 
KKK. 

1. Only those who are 
present at the digging up of 
the clue will be allowed to 
share in the treasure. 

Note. — The Commandant 
kicked very hard against this 
condition, because he was 
afraid of being seen in the 
company of the mediums, but 
KKK was adamant and Kiazim 
finally gave way. 

2. The mediums are to be 
prepared to carry out the 
treasure-test of the Head- 
hunting Waas. If that fails, 
Jones is authorized to try 
the secret Blood-test of the 
Red Karens. 

3. The Turks must not 
speak a single word unless 
spoken to by the mediums. 



4. Mediums are to wear 
black. 



Secret object of the condi- 
tions. 

I. To get Kiazim out 
and enable us to photo- 
graph him. 



2. To enable me to pose 
the Turks for Hill to photo- 
graph them. If the first pose 
was unsuccessful, the Red 
Karens' test gave the oppor- 
tunity for a second pose. 



3. To prevent the Turks 
from drawing each other's 
attention to any suspicious 
incident. 

4. We had black water- 
Iproof capes. Hill found the 
folds useful for concealing 
the camera. 



5. Mediums are not to be 
touched at any time after 
KKK has appeared. 

6. Mediums must hold 
hands when following KKK. 



5. To ensure that Hill 
should not be interfered 
with when using the camera. 

6. To enable us to signal 
to one another without the 
Turks seeing it. 



198 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 



7, One, or both, of the 
mediums may collapse under 
the strain. If they do, leave 
them quite alone. Do not 
touch them, or speak to 
them, or even think of them 
without orders. Leave them 
alofie and they will recover. 

8. All to carry sticks 
and waterbottles. Cook to 
carry a pick and spade under 
his coat. Moise to carry 
the following articles care- 
fully hidden about his per- 
son: scissors, knife, adze, 
waterbottle, matches, fire- 
wood, rags soaked in kero- 
sine, bread, and a clean 
white handkerchief. 



7. To enable Hill to get 
away from the rest of us 
for the half-dozen paces at 
which he was prepared to 
'take the photograph, and to 
keep the attention of the 
Turks off Hill. 



8. The articles were 
.mostly camouflage, but 
some (the bread and water 
in particular) were intended 
to form a precedent for the 
time when the Spook would 
arrange our final escape. 



9. "Obedience! Obedi- 
ence! Obedience!" 



9. A general precaution. 



"The clue," the Spook warned us, "is very clever. The 
casual person on opening it would think he had found nothing 
and throw it down where he found it. If the finder happened 
to look further, he would find something to cause him surprise 
and a puzzle to make him talk. When 000 buried the 
treasure he hoped if this happened the talk would reach the 
ears of his heir. Therefore, do not be disappointed when at 
first you find nothing but an emblem of death. Go on looking 
carefully. The clue itself will puzzle you, but what one man 
can invent another man can understand." 
' That night Hill gave me a final exhibition of his extraor- 
dinary palming, and I went to bed with renewed confidence 
in his skill. Tomorrow would settle our hash one way or 
another — ^we would get that photograph or be found out and 
take the consequences, whatever they might be. 

To oxu" disgust the 27 th March turned out a dull, misty 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 199 

day, with some rain, quite hopeless for photography. The 
Spook informed the Pimple that KKK would find it difficult 
to appear in mist, as he was pretty misty himself to human 
eyes, even under the best conditions, and advised postpone- 
ment. The Pimple cordially agreed that it would be prac- 
tically impossible to see a spook on such a day. 

Next day, the 28th March, was overcast and stormy, with 
rain and a high wind which would prevent Hill from managing 
his cloak properly, and we again postponed by mutual con- 
sent. 

At 9 a.m. on 29th March, Moi'se came to us in some excite- 
ment. There was trouble afoot. The Commandant and the 
Cook — the Major of Turkish Artillery and his orderly — ^had 
''quarrelled"! The Commandant had ordered the Cook to 
go to Angora (120 miles away) "to fetch some stores." At 
first he had ordered him to go today, and then postponed 
until tomorrow: the Cook had seen through the motive of 
this order. He knew that Kiazim wanted to prevent him 
from attending the digging up of the first clue, in order to 
make him forfeit his share in the treasure. So the Cook had 
flatly refused to go — ^had mutinied! If Kiazim dared to pun- 
ish him, he would "blow the gaff" about the treasure-hunt. 

The Cook was a man — and won. Kiazim gave way. 

I find a note in my diary. It reads: "Considering that, 
as yet, nothing has been found, things are pretty warm." The 
diary goes on: 

^^^oth March. — Another bad day. Hail and sleet. The 
starvation diet has brought our belts in a couple of inches, and 
makes us feel very floppy and weak, but otherwise we are all 
right. Our pulses jump from 56 to 84, with extraordinary 
variations." 

We decided that next day, be it wet or fine, we must find 
the first clue. The 31st March promised well. The sun shone 
brightly and there was little wind. The Pimple was sum- 
moned, and the Spook made him repeat his instructions for 
the search, in order to make sure that he thoroughly imder- 
stood everything ; then orders were issued for the Commandant 
and the Cook to be ready at noon. While Moi'se was away 
instructing his two confederates, Hill and I secretly semaphored 
to Matthews in Posh Castle. We warned him that Kiazim 



200 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

was joining us in a treasure-hunt, and told him to watch South 
hill, and get a few of our friends to do the same. For the 
spot where Hill had buried the first clue, two months ago, was 
carefully chosen so as to be in full view of the camp, and we 
hoped our friends would be able to recognize the Commandant 
at the distance. Their recognition would be subsidiary evi- 
dence, should the photograph fail. 

At noon we met in the graveyard, outside the town. (There 
is nothing like an appropriate background for a spook-chase.) 
Hill and I held hands, and after a while went into a trance, 
and simultaneously saw KKK sitting on a gravestone. We 
chatted with him, the Turks listening eagerly and then fol- 
lowed his lead up the hill. The procedure was very similar 
to the revolver-hunt of six months before. About half-way 
up the hill, in order to test the Turks, we both "collapsed" 
together. Our friends obeyed instructions. They turned 
their backs on us and sat down carefully refraining from even 
a glance in our direction. We groaned, and moaned, and 
made weird noises to see if they would turn round, but they 
paid no attention. All was well, so we "recovered" and went 
on. Unfortunately, the weather was again our worst enemy. 
The promise of the morning had not been fulfilled; the sun 
was now hidden behind a heavy bank of cloud which grew 
momentarily darker. A slight drizzle began to fall. 

"Can't snap 'em in this," Hill whispered; "keep 'em still." 

I squeezed his hand to show I understood. A moment 
later Hill signalled that we had reached the spot, and "col- 
lapsed." I left him where he fell, staggered six paces to the 
left as arranged, a,nd called loudly to the Turks that the 
Spook was demanding the Waa test. They hurried past Hill 
without a glance at him and took up the positions I assigned, 
the Commandant on my right, and the Cook and Interpreter 
on my left. I began building the fire, carrying on an ani- 
mated conversation with the Spook as I did so, and to my 
consternation plainly heard the click of Hill's camera. He 
had taken the first photo before I was quite ready. Hastily 
I put a match to the fire, and stood up. 

"Watch the fire!" I cried. "For your lives do not move 
an eyelid. Be still and watch the fire for a little bird." 

Then I stretched my hands above my head and began the 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 20 r 

incantation, speaking loudly to drown the noise of the shutter. 
My arrangement with Hill was that I should go on reciting 
Welsh poetry until he got on his feet, which would be the 
signal that the camera was safely back in his pocket. I heard 
a second click while I was still in the middle of the first verse 
of "Bugeilio'r Gwenith Gwyn" and then I heard nothing more. 
I seemed to go on reciting for ages, and wondered what was 
up, and why the third click was so long in coming. I had 
finished a favourite Welsh lullaby and was plunging des- 
perately into a Burmese serenade by way of variety when I 
noticed Hill was on his feet, standing quietly behind the Pimple. 
He gave an almost imperceptible nod as he caught my eye, 
and I broke off. 

"The bird!" I shouted. 

"The bird!" yelled Hill. 

We both pointed to a neighbouring stone, and the Turks, 
who had remained motionless throughout the incantation, were 
galvanized into life again. Curiously enough, nobody had 
noticed the bird except Hill and myself! We had both dis- 
tinctly seen it settle close beside the stone before it disappeared 
into thin air. 

The Cook began to dig where we said the bird had settled. 
He dug with such vehemence that he broke his spade. Nothing 
daunted he fell to with the adze, and in due course he brought 
to light a tin can, about four inches long, carefully soldered at 
the ends and somewhat rusted. 

"Spread the clean white handkerchief." The Turks fully 
understood that it was not I who spoke, but the Spook through 
me. Moi'se obeyed. 

"Now open the receptacle and empty it on to the hand- 
kerchief." 

As MoYse was forcing off the lid of the tin with his knife, 
Hill and I drank in the scene. The Commandant's dark eyes 
were ablaze in a face as pale as death. The Cook, all wet 
with the sweat of his digging, bending forward with a hand on 
either knee, looked like savage greed personified. The Pimple 
could hardly master the excited trembling of his hands. His 
knife slipped and he cut himself. 

"Ha!" said the Spook, "that is good! Blood is drawn, and 
now no more need be shed." 



202 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

The lid came off, and the Pimple shook out into the hand- 
kerchief — a little heap of ashes. 

**The emblem of death, as promised," said the Spook. "Is 
the tin empty?" 

The Pimple looked inside, thrust in his fingers and felt 
carefully round. 

• 'There is nothing," he said. 

"Then if that is all," said the Spook, "you may throw it 
away." 

Moi'se threw the tin down the hillside. All the light died 
out of Kiazim's eyes, the unhappy Cook opened his mouth to 
say something, but remembered the orders for silence in time, 
and stood with his mouth agape. Moise was on the verge of 
tears. 

"Ha! ha! ha!" said the Spook. "I said sl casual person 
would throw it away! Cook! Are you more careful than 
Moise?" 

"Evvetr* (Yes) said the Cook, shutting his mouth like a 
rat-trap. Once more he was all eagerness. 

"Then examine it. Cook!" 

The Cook ran down the hill, picked up the tin, and after a 
short examination discovered that it contained a false bottom. 
But he was still under the ban of silence. The pantomime he 
went through in trying to convey his discovery to the others 
was almost too much for our solemnity. He poked a dirty 
finger alternately into the Commandant's side and into the 
tin, dancing round him the while so that poor Kiazim, who 
did not understand what he had found, must have thought the 
fellow stark, staring mad. The Pimple pranced about beside 
the Cook, trying vainly to see into the tin. He told us after- 
wards that he thought the Spook had "materialized" a clue at 
the last moment and put it into the tin. Hill and I would 
have given a month's pay for freedom to laugh. He signalled 
to me to cut the performance short, lest he should give 
way. 

"Take your scissors," cried the Spook, "and open it." 

The Pimple hewed at the tin with his very blunt scissors. 
In his excitement he cut himself again — to the delight of the 
Spook — but finally got the false bottom opened. It concealed 
a Turkish gold lira, wrapped in paper, and the inner layer of 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 203 

paper bore a circle of beautifully written Armenian characters 
arranged clockwise. 

"Now you may talk," said the Spook. 

And talk those Turks did— all together and across each 
other. For five minutes they made as much noise as a rookery 
in nesting-time. The Commandant shook hands with each of 
us several times over. The Pimple was ecstatic. The Cook 
gave me the fright of my life by trying to kiss me, which 
made Hill choke suddenly and turn his back. A little way 
down the hill a group of Yozgad inhabitants were watching 
in open-mouthed astonishment. The Spook came to the rescue 
and ordered us all home. 

On the way back the Cook, who was a native of Yozgad, in- 
formed us that we were undoubtedly on the track of the right 
treasure, and 000 must be the man we thought, because the 
spot on which the first clue was found was on the land of the 
deceased Armenian whose wealth we were seeking. Here was 
another coincidence! 

The Spook's last instructions before he bade us good-bye 
were for the safety of the mediums. He warned us that 000 
would probably make an attempt on our lives that evening. 
No one, not even the Commandant himself, was to be allowed 
to enter between dark and dawn, lest 000 should "control" 
the visitor into murdering us. We were to be left absolutely 
alone, so that our Spook might watch over us without any 
distraction. 

Kiazira Bey rose to the occasion. He doubled the sentries 
round our house. He even prohibited the nightly visit of the 
Onbashi for roll-call. 

Thus we secured a quiet evem*ng, safe from interruption. 
Had Kiazim been able to see into our house about 10 p. m. he 
might have wondered what was afoot. Hill was locked up 
inside a cupboard in a well-darkened room. I was in the room 
we usually occupied, pacing up and down in an agony of im- 
patience and doubt, and ready to intercept any unlikely visitor. 
Much depended on the next few njinutes. 

At length Hill came out. He carried in his hand a roll of 
newly-developed V.P. Kodak films, and without saying any- 
thing held it up between me arid the light. I saw three ex- 
cellent picture of the treasure-hunt. 



204 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"They are a bit over-exposed," Hill grumbled — ^he is never 
wholly satisfied with his own performances — "I gave them too 
long." 

Maybe! But it says something for the nerve of the man 
that he had held the camera without a quiver for three time 
exposures under those conditions. I could see nothing wrong 
with the negatives. They were everything I desired, and Bim- 
bashi Kiazim Bey, Commandant of Yozgad, was clearly rec- 
ognizable in each. 

At last we had our proof. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

OF A "dreadful explosion" AND HOW 000 SOUGHT TO 

MURDER US 

WE had long since decided that the most appropriate 
date for finding the second (and last) of the two 
clues we had made, would be the First of April. 
Hill had buried it, he told me, some four miles 
away on the bank of a gully beyond the Pinewoods, known to 
the camp as ''Bones's Nullah." The photographs being al- 
ready taken, we had no troubles to contend with, or fears of 
discovery to disturb us, and we set out next day in true April- 
fooling spirit. As we walked through the town in our black 
cloaks, we passed Lieut. Taylor, R.E., who was inside a shop 
making purchases for the camp larder. Taylor was one of two 
officers in the camp who definitely knew from Nightingale 
that the spooking was a fraud. He was also a fellow-towns- 
man of mine, and a very good friend. He saw the water- 
bottles and haversacks we carried, and jumped to the con- 
clusion that we were being sent away from Yozgad. Like the 
good fellow he was, he took no thought of himself, and paid 
no heed to the Commandant's order that no one was to com- 
municate with us. Brushing aside his escort he ran into the 
middle of the street and shouted after us to know where we 
were being taken, 

"It is April Fools' Day," I whispered to Moise, "I'm going 
to pull his leg," Then, turning round, I shouted back the 
one word "Sivas" (the name of a distant town in Anatolia). 

"I'll write home to your people," Taylor roared; "you keep 
alive and we'll get you out. We'll report the blighters to 
Headquarters," He knew the Pimple must understand him, 
and braved the wrath of the Turks to cheer us up, 

"He's a good fellow," Hill whispered, "tell him it's all right." 

205 



2o6 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

But before I could speak, the Pimple broke in. Taylor's 
threat to cause trouble had alarmed him. 

"April Fool!" the Pimple shouted. "It is a joke. We are 
going a walk." 

Taylor shook his fist at us playfully, and turned back into 
the shop. 

For the next mile the Pimple, Hill, and I chatted of the -old 
British custom of April-fooling. The Pimple translated to the 
Cook, who was much interested, but neither of them thought 
of applying the knowledge thus acquired to his own case. 

The treasure-hunt began about 20 minutes' walk outside the 
town. There were slight variations from the previous day. 
YYY allowed the Turks to talk. He did not at first appear 
to our vision like KKK, but was able to make himself heard. 
We were clairaudient instead of clairvoyant. 

About half way to Bones's Nullah, my injured knee began 
to trouble me. Also we were both suffering from the effects 
of our starvation, and felt very weak. But we did not want 
to tell the Turks of our distress. Luckily, we came to a stream 
of running water, and an old superstition came into my head. 

"Sit down," said the Spook, "and wait. I cannot cross 
running water. I must go round the source." 

Whilst we waited (and incidentally rested) the Cook told 
us that what the Spook said about running water was a well- 
known fact in Turkey, and cited instances. In reply I quoted 
the immortal bard 

"Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg, 
And win the keystane of the brig: 
There at them thou thy tail may toss 
A running stream they darena' cross." 

And so we chatted until YYY's voice from the other side of 
the stream (only Hill and I heard it, of course) bade us come 
on. 

The remainder of our journey was a repetition of the pre- 
vious day's, save that no photograph was taken; and when 
the tin box containing a. second lira and another paper of 
cryptic instructions was unearthed, we failed to escape the 
gratitude of the Cook. He went on his knees, kissed our hands, 
and made a most fervent speech. (The Pimple translated.) 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 207 

He assured us that our names would never die in Turkey, and 
that his grandchildren's grandchildren would call down bless- 
ings c« the heads of Jones and Heel Effendi. We hope they 
will — it can't do us any harm. 

All the way back the Turks babbled about the treasure. Two 
of the three clues were now found. The Spook was rapidly 
fulfilling his promises. All honour to the Spook, to YYY, and 
to KKK. We must thank them! When we got back to our 
prison the spook-board was produced, and the Pimple thanked 
all concerned with great solemnity, and asked for further 
orders. 

The Spook warned us that another attempt might be made 
on our lives that night. (On the night of the 31st March 
000 had tried, but failed to do anything.) 

Moi'sE. "May the mediums have extra food to-night? 
They are very hungry." 

Spook. "Better not. Drink, if they like." 

Moi'sE. "They would like soup. Do you include soup in 
drink?" 

Spook. "No! No! Not soup! Wine or spirits." 

MoisE. "Are they allowed to go to bed?" 

Spook. "Let them amuse themselves, and keep a light 
burning till after midnight. I order wine to keep their cour- 
age up. They may be sorely tried, but let them have faith 
and courage." 

The Commandant doubled our sentries again, and sent us 
a bottle of the best wine we had tasted since the war began, 
and a flagon of superlative raki. He was delighted with our 
success. He sent word that a cipher telegram ^ had just been 
received from the Turkish War Office ordering him to release 
us from solitary confinement and send us back to the camp, 
but he would not bother the Spook with it until next day and 
certainly would not execute it until he had consulted our 

*The telegram was dispatched from Constantinople on March 
29th and reached Yozgad on the afternoon of April ist. It was in 
cipher, and read as follows : "With reference to your letter of 
March i8th, 1334" (i.e., the report of the trial dictated by the 
Spook) "the two officers who have been communicating with the 
townspeople should be released from imprisonment, and their pun- 
ishment should be to stop them writing letters to their relations 
for one month." 



2o8 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Control. He thanked Us for finding the second clue, and 
begged us to keep our courage up, whatever OOO might at- 
tempt that night. 

Hill and I settled down to discuss our future plans and cele- 
brate our past success. We allowed ourselves a couple of 
baked potatoes each, by way of foundation for the wine, and 
had a most cheerful evening. 

The Pimple appeared at dawn on the 2nd of April with an 
anxious face. The sentries had reported strange noises in the 
house during the night, and he was sure 000 had made an- 
other attempt on our lives. We told him that 000 had made 
a perfect nuisance of himself until well past midnight. Doors 
had banged, windows had rattled and footsteps had echoed 
through the house. Strange voices had sung weird songs. 
Several times 000 had come within an ace of ''controlling" 
us, but our Spook had come to the rescue. The strain had 
been terrible. 

"You have no evil effects, I hope?" the Pimple asked. 

"Only a slight headache," we said together. 

The Pimple congratulated us on being still alive, and es- 
caping so lightly. It did not occur to him that 000 was not 
the spirit on whom our sore heads could justly be blamed. 

Then he asked if he might consult the Spook about the War 
Office telegram ordering our release. The explanation of the 
wire turned out to be simple enough to a true believer. 

"You remember," said the Spook, "how I said I might cause 
Constantinople to send a telegram (see p. 195). Well, I had 
everything ready. Their minds were prepared to send a wire 
as soon as I put it into their heads what to say. 000 got 
wind of our intention through his medium, who must have 
picked up your thought- waves." 

Moi'sE (aside.) "Who is this damned fellow?" 

Spook. "It is X" (naming a friend of ours in the camp). 
"000 got this wire sent because he was able to use the ground 
previously prepared by me. Do you understand?" 

Mo'iSE. "Yes, Sir. We understand." 

Spook. "000 is determined to stop us finding the treasure. 
He hoped the wire would arrive in time to stop the search for 
the first clue, because he thought if the Commandant got tMs 
wire before anything had been found he would not believe in 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 209 

me, and being frightened, would send the mediums back to 
the camp." 

The Pimple was much impressed by the cunning of 000. 
He agreed that had the telegram arrived before the finding of 
the clues, Kiazim Bey would have been frightened out of his 
wits. It was, of course, obvious that our Control had delayed 
the delivery of the telegram for three days! As things stood, 
with two out of three clues already discovered, Kiazim would 
not dream of putting an end to our solitary confinement: he 
fully trusted our Spook to keep the War Office in order. 

The Turks were now entirely in our hands. Their confi- 
dence in the Spook was absolute. They had reached the high- 
water mark of faith, and we determined to rush things through 
on the full tide of their creduhty. For there was no more 
"planted treasure" to be dug up, nor could we hope to in- 
crease the trust in us which they already showed, so there was 
no sense in delay. 

But their offer to keep us locked up, though satisfactory as 
a proof of their faith, did not quite fit in with our plans. Our 
first object was to get into touch with somebody in the camp, 
and give him the negatives and other proofs of Kiazim's com- 
plicity. Not until then would we be free to go ahead with 
our two alternative plans, which, as has already been explained, 
were either to get Kiazim to send us somewhere whence escape 
would be easy or, failing that, to sham madness in the hope of 
being exchanged. At the same time, while gaining access to 
one man in the camp, we desired to maintain our splendid 
isolation so as to enable us to spook at high pressure without 
fear of interruption from our brother officers; for once we had 
handed over our proofs we intended to rush the Turks off their 
legs, while they were still ecstatic over the finding of the two 
clues. 

The contingency had already been foreseen and prepared for 
before we were locked up, and we got rid of our proofs easily 
enough. It was done thus: 

The Spook thanked the Commandant for his trust and his 
readiness to disobey the War Office. But to make the dis- 
obedience doubly safe, the responsibility for our continued 
confinement should be transferred on to the shoulders of our 
fellow-prisoners. With this end in view the Spook announced 



210 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

he had placed Doc. O'Farrell "under control." Let MoTse go 
to the Doc. and say the mediums want some quinine; the proof 
that the Spook was in control would be that Doc. would re- 
fuse to give any medicine without first seeing his patients.^ 
Moise was to object a little at first, but in the end he should 
permit the visit. ''If I am successful," the Spook said, "the 
doctor will be very uneasy about his patients after his visit. 
He will go home and consult his text books. Then he will ask 
the Commandant's permission to keep them under medical ob- 
servation, and will suggest that they be not permitted walks 
or access to the other prisoners until he is satisfied about their 
health. The Commandant can then produce the telegram and 
say, 'Orders have just come for their release. I was just going 
to tell them.' The doctor, speaking under my control, will 
advise him not to tell them just at present, but to keep them 
locked up, to which the Commandant will agree. In this way 
the Commandant will be free from all blame for their con- 
tinued imprisonment." 

The Pimple thought the plan excellent, and at once put it 
into execution. He asked the doctor for some quinine. As 
previously arranged. Doc. refused to give it without seeing us. 
The Pimple, much delighted at finding the control so perfect, 
brought him over to us. While the doctor was examining our 
tongues and feeling our pulses, Hill slipped into his pocket a 
small packet containing 

( 1 ) A complete copy of the Pimple's records of the seances. 

(2) A brief explanation of our plans, and a note telling the 
Doc. what advice we wished him to give the Commandant, and 
why. 

(3) The negatives of the treasure-hunt. 

(4) The camera, to be returned to its owner (Lieut. Wright). 

The Pimple and the Doc. left our room together. Ten 
minutes later the Pimple came back. He told us the Spook 
had succeeded partially, but not wholly. The doctor had ob- 
viously been under control, for his hands were very cold, his 
face pale, and his voice a trifle shaky. (So they were — from 
excitement. He knew something was in the wind.) But out- 

' See our previous arrangement with O'Farrell, p. 137. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 211 

side, instead of recommending our seclusion, he had recom- 
mended walks, as we looked palel 

Hill and I knew what had happened — Doc. had given his 
orders for walks off-hand, before reading our instructions. 
Moi'se explained that no doubt the Spook would put things 
right later, for the doctor had said at parting that he would 
visit us again, as he had forgotten to bring his thermometer. 

We turned again to the spook-board. 

"There were several reasons why I did not do everything 
at once," said the Spook. "First, my motto is 'Yawash, 
y awash' (slowly, slowly). Second, I needed all my force for 
doctor and could spare none to instruct the mediums how to 
answer his questions. Third, you — Moise — ought to have re- 
membered that the doctor was under control. You were so 
interested that your thoughts interfered with me. Try to keep 
your mind a blank next time." 

The Pimple decided that, to make sure of not interfering, he 
had better stay away when the doctor visited us in future. 
This he did. Naturally, under these conditions it was easier to 
explain things to the Doc; his preliminary mistake was soon 
rectified, and he took the responsibility for keeping us in 
prison. 

From the 2nd of April until the 5th (when the Spook al- 
lowed Kiazim to make it known that our solitary imprison- 
ment was ended) we had seances night and day. Indeed from 
now until we left Yozgad on April 26th we gave the Turks no 
rest, and I doubt if any Government business was done by the 
Commandant, Cook, or Interpreter except by the order of the 
Spook, 

The Commandant asked the Spook, before going on to the 
third clue, to assist in interpreting the two clues already found. 
Although the Turks had obtained a couple of Armenian dic- 
tionaries, the clock-face arrangement of the letters in the 
first clue foiled their efforts, for they could not tell where the 
message began and therefore could not use the dictionaries. 
Further, Armenian has three distinct forms of type, and the 
two dictionaries in the Commandant's possession differed both 
from one another and from the writing of the clue, which was 
in capitals. 

It would have been easy enough for the Spook to say 



212 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

straight out that the clue consisted of two Armenian words 
meaning "South" and "West," and as we were in a hurry to 
get on to the more important task of persuading Kiazim to give 
us a free trip to the coast, we resented delay. But straight- 
forward answers are not indulged in by Spooks. The Com- 
mandant had studied "Raymond" and knew this. Spooks enjoy 
puzzling and teasing people over trifles— Sir Oliver Lodge says 
so-^and the other thing is simply "not done" in the spook- 
world. The simplest answer to the simplest question must be 
"wrapped in mystery." The Turks expected mystery, and they 
got it. Perhaps we were gilding refined gold, but it is such 
caution and attention to detail that makes the difference be- 
tween the "genuine medium" and the "vulgar fraud." The 
reader must not forget that we belonged to the former cate- 
gory, and had to maintain its high standard. 

In answer to the appeal for assistance the Spook sent Moise 
to fetch a dictionary. He came back with two, and found us 
starting our lunch of dry toast and tea. He did not notice 
that it was an hour before our usual lunch time, but sat chat- 
ting with us while we ate. I picked up the two dictionaries, 
glanced at them one after the other in a casual way, and set 
them down again with the remark that the characters looked 
like a mixture between Russian and Greek. Then we chatted 
of cabbages and kings till the last piece of toast was eaten, 
when we returned to the spook-board. 

"Now," said the Spook, "take a dictionarj'', Moise." 

MoTse picked up one of the books and held it out to the 
spook-board. 

"Page 792," said the Spook. 

"Got it," Moise answered. 

"Oh," the glass wrote, "if you've got it, you don't require 
my help any more." 

"I mean I have got the page.'* 

"Well, say what you mean! Put your finger on the top 
left-hand corner." (Moise obeyed.) "More to the right!" 
(Moise obeyed.) "There! You are touching the first three 
letters of the first word. Now find out!" 

(Here followed a valiant effort by Moise to puz;zle it out, 
but as the type was so different from the writing he failed.) 

"Does it mean 'droit'?" he asked. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 213 

''No! Ha! Ha! Ha!" (The glass was laughing.) "Write 
down a number," 

Moise wrote down 473. 

''Add 810 to it and look it up." (Mo'ise took up the same 
dictionary.) "No, the other book!" 

Moise looked up page 1283 in the second dictionary and 
found a similar word. 

"Does it mean this?" he asked, pointing to the word "South." 

"Yes, of course," came the answer. "Now I will number the 
letters of the second word for you. Begin — i, 32." (Moise 
began looking up page 132.) "Foolish! Read what I said. 
That is the page. I am not numbering the page, but the letters 
of the alphabet." 

"We are hopeless, sir," said Moise. 

"i, 32," said the Spook, "then 5, 11, 20, 31, i, 15, 24, 18, 
20, 22. Now go home and puzzle it out." 

Mo'ise went home and after an hour's good hard work with 
the dictionaries found that the clue meant "South" "West," 
the numbers given representing the position of the letters in 
the Armenian alphabet. First south and then west were the 
directions in which to measure. 

The second clue was a circle containing in the margin two 
numbers, either of which might be 61 or 19. (Armenian 
figures are the same as our own.) The Spook told the Turks 
that with the aid of a good compass it would be quite easy to 
decipher. (We wanted them to produce a good compass, and 
when the time arrived we would "dematerialize" it — for it 
would be most useful to us. We liked that word "demateri- 
alize." It was much nicer than "steal.") And there, for the 
present, the deciphering of the second clue remained, and we 
turned our attention to the discovery of the third, and last. 

The Spook first made an attempt to get into telepathic 
touch with AAA through the board. The seance was in many 
ways most interesting. We had the greatest difficulty in get- 
ting through to Constantinople, and for a while it looked as if 
000 & Co. had captured the thought-wave exchange, or as 
if it had been nationalized by the Government of the next 
sphere, for we were connected up in turn with all sorts of 
people with whom we did not particularly want to talk. We 
got on to Colonel Maule's mind, and were able to assure the 



214 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Turks that he was not mentioning our case in his monthly 
letter to Headquarters. (We had learned this fact from the 
Doc, who had questioned Maule.) Then we were switched on 
to the British War Office and discovered that our plight was 
already known there, and that enquiries were to be made. Next 
we got Turkish headquarters in Palestine, and German head- 
quarters in France, and learned interesting things about the 
war, but do what we would we could not get Constantinople. 
The Spook appealed to us for one last effort. We made it, 
got Constantinople, got AAA on the other end of the "thought- 
wave," and immediately got jammed. The opposition had 
blocked us. The Pimple was almost in tears — we were so 
near success and yet so far awayl 

'Tt is that damned 000 again," he wailed, "he is getting 
more powerful since he organized his company." 

Our Spook made us try again and again till the unhappy 
Pimple was completely worn out with recording the meaning- 
less gyrations of the glass. For us mediums this was easy work 
— there was no guiding to do, and we pushed the glass about 
anywhere, in comfort. When Mo'ise was half dead with fatigue, 
the Spook admitted defeat. But he said there were other 
methods. He first offered to control AAA into committing 
suicide with a view to getting into touch with his spook after- 
wards, as in the case of YYY and KKK. It was easy enough 
to do, we were told, but the objection to this method was that 
the Spook of AAA would learn what had happened, and might 
join the opposition out of revenge for his own death. Besides, 
even if he proved willing to communicate, it would be some 
time before he could learn how to do so, as had already been 
pointed out. (Vide our own seances and Raymond passim.) 

The Pimple declined to take the risk, and asked that AAA 
be left alive. Needless to say his petition was granted. 

There remained, said the Spook, telepathic trance-talk, but 
this involved enormous risk to all concerned. Failure might 
mean loss of sanity, or even death to the mediums, and equal 
danger to the sitter if he made any mistake. There was no 
other method of finding out the third clue in Yozgad, and the 
only alternative was to move us away from Yozgad. 

This led to a long discussion between the Pimple, Hill, and 
myself. Hill and I objected strongly to the idea of being moved 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 215 

from Yozgad. We pointed out that the Commandant was our 
friend, that we were very comfortable (except for the starva- 
tion), and that nowhere else in Turkey could we expect to pass 
our imprisonment under such pleasant conditions. Therefore 
we proposed trying the telepathic trance-talk, however danger- 
ous it might be, and expressed ourselves willing to run any risk 
rather than be moved to another camp and another Comman- 
dant. 

The Pimple, on the other hand, did not at all relish the idea 
of either insanity or death at the hands of the opposition. He 
thought we ought not lightly to discard the warning of the 
Spook. Death, after all, was a terrible thing. And he him- 
self, as sitter, had an unfortunate habit of making mistakes. 

We denied that death meant anything for mediums who 
knew what splendid activities awaited us in the world of 
spooks. Indeed we were quite anxious to pass on. So we for- 
gave the Pimple beforehand for any mistakes he might make; 
then we outvoted him, and refused to contemplate a move 
until we had tried every possible method in Yozgad. 

The poor little man acquiesced with the best grace he could 
muster. When the hour for the trance-talk arrived (it was to 
take place in the dark) he shook hands with us very solemnly 
and took his place in the dark at the other side of the room. 
His instructions were to listen, but not to interrupt. 

Hill and I held hands in the usual way and went off into a 
trance to the usual accompaniment of grunts and groans. Then 
the Spook announced he was going off to Constantinople (where 
AAA was for the time being) in order to put AAA under simi- 
lar control. 

Hill and I had everything rehearsed beforehand. We waited 
for the silence and the darkness to begin to prey on the 
Pimple's nerves, and then rose together, called to the Pimple 
to follow and set off downstairs. We talked, as we went, to 
an imaginary spirit. With the Pimple at our heels we turned 
to the left at the bottom of the stair and passed through a 
doorway (usually shut) into a large hall on the ground floor. 
Immediately there was the bang of a most terrifice explosion. 
Hill and I shrieked to MoTse to run. Blind with terror, the 
poor little fellow rushed out of the house and smashed into the 
ten-foot wall of the yard, which he vainly sought to climb. 



2i6 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Then, recovering himself bravely, he came back to our res- 
cue. We were half-way up the wooden stairs that led to our 
room, bawling for help at the top of our voices, and wrestling 
desperately with an invisible opposition in the dark. First one 
and then the other of us fell clattering to the bottom of the 
stairs. As fast as we climbed up we were thrown down again. 
The night was filled with our groans and shouts, and the noise 
of blows. The din was terrific. 

Moi'se often told us afterwards that it was the most awe- 
inspiring incident in all his spooking experience. It was so 
dark on the stairs that he could see nothing, but he realized 
that we were fighting for our lives. Sometimes our calls for 
help sounded so agonized he feared we were losing the struggle. 

It was small wonder our voices were "agonized," for we 
were really suffering most abominably from a desire to laugli. 
The tumult on the stairs was of course prearranged. First 
Hill dragged me backwards then I dragged him, and we both 
yelled at the top of our voices, pounded one another in the 
dark, kicked and stamped and raved to drown the laughter 
that was rising within us. We were seeking to terrify Moise 
into another flight, and hoped he would make a bolt for home, 
but we failed. We did not know until afterwards that he had 
left the key of the outer gate in our room upstairs, and was 
as much a prisoner as ourselves. 

The end came suddenly; Hill was halfway upstairs, hold- 
ing on to the banisters with both hands and shaking them till 
they rattled. I had him by the ankles and was heaving and 
hauling in an endeavour to break his grip and give him as 
bumpy a passage to- the bottom as he had just given me. We 
were both yelling blue murder. Then the Pimple took a hand 
in the fight. He came up to within a foot of my back in the 
dark, stamped his heavy boots loudly on the wooden stairs, 
and cried "Shoo — shoo!" in a very frightened voice. The idea 
of "shoo-ing" away a malignant spirit who was intent on our 
murder was too much for us; Hill let go of the banisters and 
I loosed his heels at the same instant, and we fled together to 
our room to suffocate our laughter in the blankets, — a "fuite 
precipitee au haut de rescalier" Moise called it in his notes. 
The Pimple followed, and bravely took up his position at his 
table. I must admit the little rascal had courage where spooks 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 217 

were concerned, for he took out his pencil and carefully re- 
corded the curious sounds we made in stifling our laughter, 
annotating the whole with the remark, "cries of souls in tor- 
ment." Finally we got back into our chairs, and with the 
usual groans and grunts the "power passed away." The 
Pimple lit the lamp and peered at us anxiously. 

"Did anything happen? Have we found it?" I asked. 

"It has been terrible — atrocious!" said the Pimple. "You 
feel all right? You are sane? Eh?" 

At his request we examined ourselves. We found bruises;; 
I had barked my shins, Hill's nose was skinned, and though it 
was a cold night we were both bathed in perspiration. 

We affected not to understand, and the Pimple gave us a 
lurid account of the night's performance. Then we turned to 
the Spook for further light on the subject. 

In preparing us for the trance-talk the Spook had warned 
us: "It is like a battle. While I am attacking AAA at Con- 
stantinople, the opposition may suddenly counter-attack on my 
mediums, and as I have told you, I have no reserves." This 
was exactly what happened; our Spook put us into a trance and 
turned his force on AAA. While he was doing so, 000 stepped 
in, pretending to be AAA, and taking advantage of the trance 
state of the mediums counter-attacked by leading them, not 
to the third clue, but into a trap. It had been a second and 
most brutal attempt to kill the mediums. Our Spook had 
arrived back from Constantinople just in time to interpose 
between us and the "explosion," and to divert the missiles. 
"The missiles themselves are of course invisible in your sphere," 
our Spook explained, "but their results, and the results of the 
explosion you heard, are visible. Would you like to see them?" 

"Is there no danger?" Moise asked. 

"No, I am with you," said the Spook. 

We took a candle and went cautiously downstairs and into 
the hall below. The place was in a fearful mess. At the end 
where we had entered, the floor was deep in broken plaster, 
and in the wall, all round the spot where we had been standing 
when the explosion took place, were ten great holes. Mo'ise 
probed those he could reach with shaking fingers, but found 
no missiles. As the Spook had said, the "missiles were in- 
visible." Awestruck, we returned upstairs. 



2i8 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"The mediums and I thank you ancerely," said Moi'se to 
the Spook. *'It was a dreadful explosion. We are grateful to 
you." 

"You are a brave man, Moise," the Spook replied. "I con- 
gratulate you. Your presence on the stair and your stamping 
helped me. Well done! But you see it is very dangerous. I 
think you are satisfied it is too risky. You had better consent 
to Plan 2." 

Moise was satisfied — eminently satisfied — but Hill and I 
were not. We protested against leaving Yozgad, and wanted 
to try again, whatever the danger might be. But Moi'se had 
had enough. He agreed with the Spook that we ought to try 
another plan, that this was too risky, and when we would not 
yield he went off to tell the Commandant that he would resign 
his position as "sitter" and give up the treasure unless we 
agreed to being moved as the Spook suggested. He returned 
with the news that the Commandant was strongly in favour 
of Plan 2, because if his mediums were killed all hope of the 
treasure would be gone. Plan 2 entailed our leaving Yozgad. 

We had got what we wanted. The Turks were now keen 
on moving us. We did not trouble to explain that the "ex- 
plosion" which had frightened them was caused by Hill bang- 
ing shut a heavy trap-door left open for that purpose, or that 
the ten "shell holes" in the wall represented some hard work 
with the pick we had borrowed for the treasure hunt. Indeed, 
if we had said so, they would not have believed usl 




CHAPTER XIX 

OF THE FOUR POINT RECEIVER AND HOW WE PLANNED TO 
KIDNAP THE TURKISH STAFF AT YOZGAD 

N the First of April the Pimple had let slip a morsel 
of valuable information. He told us that the 
Changri prisoners were coming to Yozgad in charge 
of their own Commandant and Interpreter. 

''That solves one difficulty," I said to Hill, after the Pimple 
had gone away. 

''How?" 

"For the escape stunt. If we persuade them to send us to 
the coast all three will want to come with us, because they 
don't trust each other. But if they can leave the Changri 
Commandant and Interpreter in charge of this camp it should 
be easy enough for Kiazim and the Pimple to get away. The 
Cook can always come as Kiazim's orderly." 

"You mean," said Hill, "that you expect all three to come 
with us to the coast?" 

"More than that," said I. "I've a plan for getting them 
to provide a boat for us. I believe if they do so they will be 
too frightened to give the alarm when we bolt, and we'd get 
a good start." 

In his function as critic Hill listened to my plan for persuad- 
ing the Turks to get us a boat. Then he sat silent for some 
time. 

"Good enough," he said at last, "but why leave the Turks 
behind? Why not take them with us in the boat? In short, 
why not kidnap 'em?" 

It was my turn to sit silent. 

"I believe we two could sandbag three Turks any day," 
Hill grinned, "and it would be some stunt to hand over a 
complete prison camp Staff to the authorities in Cyprus. The 
giddy old War Office would be quite amused, I do believe, and 

219 



220 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

a laugh would cheer them up. And think of the British public! 
If the German communiques are true our folks should be in 
the dumps just now, with our armies in France being pushed 
about, and Paris being shelled and all the rest of it. It would 
do 'em a power of good to see a par. about us in their break- 
fast newspapers! Think of the heading: 'Kidnapping of 
Yozgad Camp Officials' — 'Spoofed by a Spook.' And think 
of the joy of Sir Oliver Lodge!" 

"There's another point," said I. "If they were with us 
they couldn't raise the alarm." 

"That settles it, doesn't it?" Hill asked. 

It did. We decided to kidnap as many of the Turks as we 
could. 

On his next visit the Doc. carried away in his pocket a rough 
skeleton of our two plans (i.) for kidnapping the Commandant, 
and (ii.) for shamming mad. We asked him to give us his ad- 
vice, especially about the madness, and also to discuss the 
plans with three men who had taken risks by sending us mes- 
sages during our imprisonment, and on whose sound judgment 
we relied. These were Matthews, Price, and Hickman. We 
asked them to help us for the kidnapping stunt by procuring 
us a map of the south coast, morphia (to drug the Turks with) 
and an adze to use as a weapon should morphia and sandbags 
fail. We thought we could carry one adze for chopping fire- 
wood without causing any suspicion. 

In reply we got a letter from Matthews. It was a good 
letter, and the talk in it was as straight as the writer. He 
said he thought the madness plan was impossible. But he 
thoroughly approved of the kidnapping. He did not want to 
"butt in" at the eleventh hour, after most of the bard work 
had been done, but if we could do it without upsetting our 
plans he would be most uncommon glad to be allowed to join 
our party. Would we take him? He could sail a boat with 
anyone, with or without a compass, and could do his share 
in a scrap. 

We discussed his letter very carefully. We replied that 
there was nobody in the camp we would rather take as a com- 
panion, and that he would be most useful to us if we could 
fit him in. Our acceptance of him as a third member of our 
party was, however, conditional. We warned him that if at 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 221 

any time we found his presence was endangering our escape, we 
should ''throw him overboard" without compunction. And 
on the ground that we knew more about spooking than he did, 
we demanded unquestioning obedience. He gave the promise 
we required with alacrity, and we set to work. 

Our first step the reader has seen — ^we persuaded the Turks 
that it would be necessary to move us. At the same time we 
sent Kiazim Bey to the official Turkish doctors in Yozgad with 
a carefully prepared story of his ill-health. Kiazim was a 
victim to biliary colic, and we learned privately from Doc. 
O'Farrell what he ought to say in order to induce the Turkish 
doctors to believe he might be suffering from stone in the 
hepatic duct. Under orders from the Spook he said it, and 
the Turkish doctors gave him their written recommendation 
for three months' leave. He was very grateful to the Spook 
who, in his opinion, had "controlled" the Turkish doctors, and 
he told us that Constantinople would undoubtedly grant him 
the leave on the strength of his medical certificate, especially 
as he could hand over charge to the Changri Commandant, who 
was coming with the next prisoners. 

The question of leave for the Pimple and the Cook was 
simple. The Commandant could — and would — grant it. 

So far as the three Turks were concerned, the difficulty of 
leaving Yozgad was thus solved. There remained Hill and 
myself, and if possible Matthews. We first thought of leav- 
ing Yozgad as members of the Afion party, intending to get 
the Commandant to separate us from the party at railhead 
(Angora). Here are the Spook's instructions: 

"Let the Superior go to Col. Maule or send word to him 
as follows: — The two officers Jones and Hill are now free but 
they will not be allowed to write letters during April. I am 
anxious to get rid of these two men, but have not yet heard if 
Constantinople v;ishes them kept here pending the completion 
of the enquiry as to their correspondent in the town. If they 
are not required here I shall send them to Afion. Will you 
please warn any two of the twenty officers nominated that their 
places may be taken by Jones and Hill? I have already in- 
formed Jones and Hill of this, and am permitting them to 
stay in the Colonels' House till the party leaves for Afion." 

Next day (April 5th) the Pimple reported having given 



^22 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

the Spook's message to Colonel Maule, and showed to the 
spook-board the following reply from the Colonel: 

"Mr. MoisE, 

"I should like to see the Commandant as soon as possible. 
As all the officers detailed for Afion have made their arrange- 
ments, sold or broken up their furniture, written to England, 
etc., there is only one who wants to stay here now, and it is 
rough luck on them to upset the whole arrangement after the 
Commandant would not let Lieut. Jones's and Hill's names gQ 
in originally. 

"(Signed) N. S. Maule, 

"5.4.18. Lt.-Col. R.F.A." 

The letter interested us because it showed that the Pimple 
had told the truth when he informed us of the previous at- 
tempt to get rid of "the black sheep." It was also a trifle 
annoying, because it upset our plans a little. To have over- 
ridden the Colonel's objections would have been easy, and I 
was on the point of making the Spook do so (this was one of 
the occasions when there had been no opportunity for con- 
sultation with Hill) when I was struck by the possibilities in 
one phrase — "there is only one who wants to stay here now." 
This was what we wanted. It should be easy for Matthews 
to change places with that one, while Hill and I could be 
added to the party as far as Angora — we had no intention 
whatsoever of accompanying them further, or of allowing 
Matthews to do so. But there was not much time for re- 
flection. 

"What do you think of this? What do you advise?" Moise 
asked excitedly of the Spook. 

Spook. "Do not forget your manners, Mo'ise! / always 
say 'good-evening' to you/' 

MoiSE. "I beg your pardon, Sir. I am very sorry." 

Spook. "All right. Now ask." (Moise repeated the ques- 
tion). "Poor Moisel Poor Moise! This is terrible, is it not? 
You thought I wanted these two mediums to be in the twenty, 
did you not?" (Note. — ^This was "eyewash" talk — to gain me 
a little time to think out a reply.) 

MoisE. "Yes, Sir." 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 223 

Spook. "Hal Hal Hal So did 000. Listen! I can- 
not tell you my plans beforehand, because it will lead to inter- 
ference. I wanted 000 to read your thoughts last night to 
deceive him into helping us. Yesterday several of the twenty 
did not want to go. Today all wanted to go. 000 did that." 

The Spook went on to explain that in addition to wasting 
OOO's force on irrelevant matters, the real object of the mes- 
sage had been to let the camp know that the Commandant 
would send away Hill and myself as soon as possible, and so it 
was natural enough for us to remain in the Colonels' House 
(where we were free to spook) instead of rejoining our respec- 
tive messes. We would be sent away, but not to Afion. Then 
the following reply was dictated by the Spook: 

"To Colonel Maule — 

"I have no desire to cause any inconvenience, so allow the 
matter to stand as it is at present. The reason for my mes- 
sage of yesterday was merely that I had been given to under- 
stand that several officers did not want to go. I simply sought 
an easy way of allowing two to stay. I do not wish to upset 
your arrangements, and if it is not necessary to keep Jones 
and Hill here, I can easily apply to Constantinople to punish 
them further by transferring them to Afion." 

Moi'se was to add, verbally, that "immediately on receipt 
of Colonel Maule's objections, the Commandant had written 
to Constantinople asking for Hill and myself to be transferred 
to another camp." And he was to let it be known that, though 
we would not be included in the Afion party, we would be 
added to it, and travel with it at least as far as Angora. This 
Moi'se did, and in due course reported that the reply "had 
comforted everybody." Colonel Maule was very pleased, and 
thanked the Commandant. 

The secret plan on which Hill and I were now working was 
perhaps sufficiently ingenious to merit a detailed description. 
The Turks, of course, did not know it beforehand, but were 
to be introduced to it bit by bit as it developed. It was as 
follows: 

I. The Spook would "control" Hill and myself into a ner- 
vous breakdown of sufficient severity to induce the Turkish 



224 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

doctors at Yozgad to recommend our transfer to Constanti- 
nople, 

2. The Spook would draft a letter to Constantinople from 
the Commandant reporting our sickness, enclosing copies of 
the Turkish doctors' recommendations, and stating that he 
would seize the first opportunity of sending us to a Constanti- 
nople hospital. Office copies of this letter would be kept by 
the Yozgad office in the usual way. The original would be 
signed, sealed, and put in an envelope addressed to the Turkish 
War Office. But it would never be delivered. It would be 
"lost in the post" for the simple reason that it would never 
be posted, though the office staff would think it had gone. 

3. As soon as news arrived that the Changri Commandant 
had left Angora en route for Yozgad, Kiazim was to telegraph 
to Constantinople about his own health, quoting the opinion of 
the doctors already obtained, ask for leave, and suggest that 
he hand over charge to the Changri Commandant. By the 
time the Changri man arrived, the answer should have come 
from the War Office, and, in view of his influence at head- 
quarters, Kiazim had already told us he could (with the aid 
of the doctors' recommendations) get leave at any time. 

4. A day or two before the arrival of the Changri Com- 
mandant Kiazim was to give the Pimple leave of absence. The 
Pimple would join the Afion party as far as Angora (railhead) 
in order to avail himself of the Government transport. {Note. 
— We modified this later, and the Pimple was actually sent 
on duty to look after the "nervous breakdowns.") 

5. The Cook was to be detailed as one of the escort of the 
Afion. party, but was to be under orders to accompany it only 
as far as Angora, where he was to stay behind "to make pur- 
chases for the Commandant's wife." 

6. In handing over charge of the Camp Kiazim would point 
out to his successor from Changri the office-copy of the letter 
about us (which had not been sent), and suggest we be added 
to the Afion party. This we could accompany as far as rail- 
head at Angora, where there were a prisoners' camp and a hos- 
pital in which we could wait till an opportunity arose for 
sending us on to Constantinople. {Note. — We would arrange, 
as we eventually did, to be taken not to the camp or the hos- 
pital, but to a hotel in Angora; but Yozgad would know noth- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 225 

ing of this.) Had we been really "nervous breakdowns" this 
would have been the natural thing to do. The Changri man 
would thus take over the camp two officers short, but would 
report the numbers as "complete and all correct." We did 
not know if it was customary for the newcomer to report to 
headquarters the exact number of prisoners taken over by him, 
and the Spook intended to get Kiazim to dodge such a definite 
statement if possible. But we did know that the report, if sent, 
would be sent in writing (taking a week to ten days), and 
what with 20 officers and 10 orderlies going to Afion, and 44 
officers and 25 orderlies coming in from Changri, with possibly 
some sick dropped en route, headquarters would either not 
notice the shortage or think it an arithmetical error. If they 
did happen to make any enquiries about it, the new Com- 
mandant would refer them to the letter about us, which they 
had never received, and we were quite sure that the result 
would be an ordinary inter-departmental wrangle as to the 
correctness of a set of figures, and possibly a post-office en- 
quiry about a missing letter. I had not spent a dozen years 
in Government service without learning how easy it is for the 
real point at issue to be obscured. And long before the War 
Office and Yozgad had got beyond the stage of arithmetical 
calculations, we hoped to be in Cyprus or Rhodes. As to 
Colonel Maule's monthly letter to H.Q., we intended asking 
him, as a favour, to continue saying nothing about us. 

7. The Commandant, when going on leave, would travel 
with us. It would be the natural thing to do, because he would 
thus get a free passage by Government cart as far as railhead, 
and also, the country being full of bandits, he would have 
the advantage of an armed escort. 

If all went well, then, the effect would be that Hill and I 
would be on the road with the Pimple, the Cook, and the 
Commandant, and once the Afion party had left us behind in 
the hotel at Angora, nobody would know anything about us. 
Yozgad officials would not worry because we had set out for 
Constantinople; Constantinople would not worry because they 
would not know we were coming. Angora prisoners' camp 
would not worry because we would be under our own escort, 
and not "on their strength." It is an exceptional Turk who is 



226 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

a busybody — they are too lazy to interfere with affairs that 
are not their concern — and the gold epaulettes on Bimbashi 
Kiazim Bey's uniform would be guarantee enough of our re- 
spectability. To make ourselves as inconspicuous as possible 
Hill and I would dress in the rough Turkish soldiers' uniform 
which had been issued to the British orderlies at Yozgad — ^we 
each had a suit of it — and discard all badges of rank. There 
was no reason why anyone in authority should question two 
British prisoners who looked like miserable and half-starved 
privates — the sight was too common. We might go anywhere 
in Turkey with Kiazim Bey, and before we left Yozgad Kia- 
zim Bey would know that his job was to take us to the Medi- 
terranean seaboard. 

Our first task was to introduce the Turks, as carefully as 
possible, to the idea of taking us to the coast. Once that was 
accomplished we could tackle the Matthews problem. 

We worked at tremendous pressure, and developed all our 
main points simultaneously. During the five days when we 
lield up Constantinople's order to release us, Doc. O'Farrell 
visited us daily and secretly instructed us in the symptoms of 
nervous breakdowns. He told the Pim.ple he thought our minds 
were affected, and the Pimple thought the Spook had "con- 
trolled" him into believing this. When we had thoroughly mas- 
tered the Doc's instructions, the Spook caused Kiazim to tell 
the camp we were free. The object of this, the Spook explained 
quite frankly to our Turkish confederates, was to enable us 
to have visitors, so that when visitors cam.e we might be "con- 
trolled" by the Spook into most eccentric behaviour. The re- 
sult, as the Spook pointed out, was that the camp thought us 
crazy. The Turks came to the conclusion we hoped they would 
reach — that the Spook intended to get the doctors to recom- 
mend our removal from Yozgad. Kiazim was greatly pleased 
with the idea, for the doctors' recommendations would relieve 
him of all responsibility. 

Our first visitors were Matthews and Price, who came in with 
the Doc. To them, when they came, I made my long-delayed 
confession that every "message" obtained through my "medi- 
umship" had been of my own invention, and that not only the 
Turks but also my friends in the camp had been victimized. 
It was then, for the first time, that I realized how difficult it 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 2.TJ 

is to convince a True Believer of the truth. In spite of what 
I said, these three, who were all my own "converts," tried to 
force me to admit that there was "something in spiritualism," 
and that at least some of the messages for which I was re- 
sponsible were "genuine." They quoted the incidents of 
"Louise" and the code-test against me, and when I had ex- 
plained these Matthews turned on me with, "Well, we have 
got one thing out of it, anyway ! We have proved the possi- 
bility of telepathy. For I don't believe that the show you 
two fellows gave at the concert could have been a fraud." In 
reply Hill picked up a small notebook, and handed it to 
Matthews. 

"There's the code we used," he said. 

To tell a man that you have been "pulling his leg" and 
"making a fool of him" for your own ends is a very severe 
test of friendship, and for our friendship's sake we had long 
dreaded this revelation. But we could not go on using these 
good fellows any longer without a full confession. 

"Hill and I hope you can forgive us," T concluded lamely. 

"Forgive you!" cried Price. "I take my hat off to you! 
If there is anything we can do to help " 

"Count on us," said Matthews, "we want to be in it." 

"Faith," laughed the Doc, "I seem to be in it already, 
though it is little I knew it — an' I mean to stay in it! From 
now on you've got to tell me everything. I couldn't sleep o' 
nights if you didn't go on using me." 

And that is how the Submarine Man, and the Sapper, and 
the Scientist from Central Africa took their generous and gentle 
revenge. 

For the rest the Spook was very thorough. It refused to 
allow us to wash, or shave, or sweep out our room. It made 
us infernally rude to many of our visitors. It controlled us 
into lodging wild accusations against our best friends. It made 
us refuse to go out, and ordered us to put a notice on our 
door 

"GO AWAY! WE DON'T WANT TO SEE YOVT 

Yet many good fellows forced their way in. Our condition 
distressed them. We were unshaven and dirty, our faces 



228 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

pale, drawn, and very thin. The fortnight's starvation had 
put a wild look into our eyes. But our chief pride and horror 
was our hair — we had refrained from cutting it for the last two 
months, and now we did not brush it, so that it stood up 
round our heads like the quills of the fretful porcupine. To 
cap everything there was the studied filth of our room. 

The best way to get a man to agree to a plan is to make 
him think it is of his own invention. This was the system we 
followed with the Turks. After the "explosion" the Turks 
had (of themselves, they thought) decided we must be moved 
from Yozgad. The Spook pointed out that two problems 
remained — how were we to be moved, and where were we to 
go? These, also, we caused the Turks to solve for us, in the 
way we wanted. 

"I want to see you try the same problems as you are giving 
me to do," said the Spook, "because when we all think to- 
gether, it helps." 

MoisE. "We thought you had a plan ready." 

Spook. "So I have, but I dare not tell it yet because of 
000. I want you all, the Sup. and the Cook too, to invent 
plans, because your thinking about these will confuse 000, 
and so help me by reducing his force. Write down all your 
plans and bring them to me." 

The Commandant, the Cook, and the Pimple spent all their 
spare time manufacturing plans. They appealed to Hill and 
myself to help, but we turned out to be singularly uninventive, 
and beyond an occasional suggestion (calculated to put them 
on the right lines) they got nothing out of us. We excused 
ourselves for our failure by saying that the English are a very 
practical race and have no imagination. The three Turks 
thought that however good we might be as mediums, we were 
hopelessly dull at what Moi'se called "intrigue." 

Within 36 hours of the explosion, the Commandant, inspired 
by Doc. O'Farrell's fears as to our sanity, produced the fol- 
lowing plan. I quote it in full from the Pimple's notes, and 
the reader can see for himself how near it came to being what 
we wanted: 

"Ecrire a Constantinople declarant que deux officiers par 
suite du pouvoir qu'ils ont de communiquer par telepathie et 
ayant abuse de ce pouvoir, sont dans un etat mental excessif 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 229 

qui pourrait avoir une influence nefaste sur leur physique ou 
cerveau. Par consequence priere de les envoyer a Constanti- 
nople afin de les faire examiner par des specialistes et de de- 
couvrir les moyens de les guerir. L'Interprete connaissant 
toutes ces questions, il serait utile de I'envoyer avec eux soit 
pour les empecher de tacher de communiquer soit pour les 
surveiller plus efficacement." 

There were several other plans by both Moise and Kiazim, 
who were certainly inventive enough. The poor old Cook 
could only think of one plan — he was an unimaginative person 
like ourselves. It was to get horses and clap us on them, and 
gallop gaily across country wherever the Spook might want us 
to go. The Cook would have done it, and Hill and I would 
have been only too delighted to do it, but for Kiazim it was 
much too open and direct. He wanted his own tracks well 
hidden before he moved, and would not countenance it — at 
this stage. 

We were quite satisfied with Kiazim's proposal as a basis 
for our plans. But we pretended to object to it very strongly. 
We said we were afraid we might be certified mad, and conse- 
quently lose our jobs when we returned to England after the 
war, as well as make our relatives anxious in the meantime. 
The Pimple asked for the Spook's opinion on our objection, 
and the Spook was very angry. 

"I do not say this is my plan," said the Spook, "but I warn 
you if I order anything you must do it. IF YOU DISOBEY, 
YOUR PUNISHMENT WILL BE REAL MADNESS! 
Choose! Obedience or real madness!" 

"Obedience, absolute obedience!" said Hill and I together, 
"and please look after us." 

"Don't worry," said the Spook, and then announced its in- 
tention of developing the plan, but went no further for the 
present. (Note. — The lines on which we would develop it 
have already been indicated to the reader — ^paragraphs i and 
2 of the foregoing plan. 

The how of our going having been solved, the Spook turned 
to the question of where we were to go. It suggested that the 
medical leave on which Kiazim's mind was now set could be 
usefully employed for three purposes simultaneously; first, 
finding the treasure, second, curing the Commandant's disease, 



230 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

and third, giving the mediums a well-deserved holiday and 
bringing them back to Yozgad with their health fully restored. 
Where, then, would Kiazim like to go for a holiday? Kiazim 
thought Constantinople would be the very place, for AAA was 
there; we could read his thoughts and find the third clue, and 
have a most excellent time. The Spook agreed that Constanti- 
nople would be first-rate for those purposes, provided AAA 
had not gone on tour to Tarsus or somewhere of that sort, 
but unfortunately a big town would be most prejudicial to 
Kiazim's health. He required some quiet place, and the Spook 
asked the Turks what sort of place they preferred, whether 
mountains, desert, or sea. 

"We prefer sea," said Moi'se, after vainly trying to get the 
Spook to agree to ''a house near the mosque of Ladin in 
Konia." 

Spook. "Noted." 

MoiSE. "Thank you. Sir. May the mediums choose a 
place? They want Cairo." 

Spook. "They must go where I send them — ha! ha!" 

Mo'iSE. "May I choose a place out of Turkey? Do you 
count Egj^t in Turkey?" 

(This was delightful — it showed Moise remembered the 
Spook's secret advice to him to "seize the first opportunity of 
going to Eg5^t." But we must not move too fast.) 

"It is not yet in Turkey," said the Spook, and turned to an- 
other subject. 

The Turks were now settled in their own minds that we 
would go to some quiet place on the sea-coast. They would 
have liked "a good time" in Constantinople, but were quite 
reconciled to a seaside resort. We decided to do more than 
reconcile them to it — we would make them madly keen to go 
there. And this is how we did it. 

(I quote the records again.) 

Spook. "Do you understand wireless, Moi'se?" 
Mo'isE. "Yes, I do, a little. I have just read something 
about it. {Note. — The Spook had previously instructed him 
to translate to the Commandant a verj/ technical book on wire- 
less telegraphy which was in the camp hbrary.) 



THE ROAD TO EiST-DOR 231 

Spook. "Now for thought-waves. They are fourth dimen- 
sion waves, so you will find it difficult." 

MoisE. "Please try to make us understand it." 

Spook. "Thought is similar to wireless waves in some 
ways. For example, it travels best over water. Mountains 
interfere. A dry desert is bad. Thought-waves are stronger 
at night. Interference by other ions is easy. For example, 
what 000 did the other night" (i.e., when he blocked the line 
to Constantinople) "was to intersperse what we call 'tele- 
tantic ions' amongst the telechronistic. So you got wrong 
letters. If Yozgad was flat and wet, or an island, it would 
be much harder for 000 to interfere." 

Moi'sE. "You mean it is easier to interfere at night?" 

Spook. "No! It is not easier to interfere at night. I did 
not say that. I said the waves are stronger at night." (Moise: 
"I am sorry, Sir.") "I mean exactly what I say — interference 
by interspersing teletantic ions is easy, provided the waves are 
feeble — that is to say, if the distance is great or the locality 
is dry and mountainous. In all these respects it is like wire- 
less. Also as regards the square of the distance, of which I 
told you." 

MoisE. "Yes, Sir. We remember." 

Spook. "Thought-reading at a distance requires conditions 
which are exactly the opposite of those necessary for clairvoy- 
ance. For clairvoyance you need a dry clear day, as in the 
case of KKK, and height helps. That is one reason why I was 
always doubtful if I could do all three clues here in Yozgad." 

MoisE. "Quite true." 

Spook. "I guessed if I got one lot I must fail with the 
other, as we had opposition. Now let me explain how thought- 
waves differ from wireless waves. First: direction. Moise, 
which direction is best for wireless?" 

MoiSE. "I think it is East to West. I do not remember." 

Spook. "WrongI Look it up!" 

MoiSE (referring to his book on wireless). "It is North to 
South." 

Spook. "Right! Now thought- waves have three bad di- 
rections and one good one. The good one is South to North. 
When travelling in that way the wave is at its strongest. 
Also, in wireless you have an immense number of radiating 



2Z2 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

waves. In thought you have only one wave. Wireless waves 
radiate. Understand?" 

Moi'sE. "Yes." 

Spook. "The single thought-wave like this — draw the mo- 
tion of the glass." {Note. — The glass moved in a left-hand 
spiral and Moise drew a picture of a spiral.) 

"Now thought-waves are attracted by water, as if gravity 
kept them down low. They travel close to the surface of 
the sea. The bigger the expanse of water, the more the main 
body and force of the wave is centred low down. But land has 
the opposite effect. It throws the main body of the wave 
high in the air. See?" 

MoisE. "Yes, Sir." 

Spook. "The bigger the expanse of land and the higher the 
mountains and the drier the surface, the higher becomes the 
main body of the wave, so by the time a thought transmitted 
from Paris reaches the middle of China it is very high and 
only the ragged edges are within reach. Now the only thing 
that will bring it down again is a big expanse of water, and 
the descent is gradual like the trajectory of a bullet." 

A glance at a map will show whither all this rigmarole was 
tending. At Yozgad it would be difficult to read AAA's 
thoughts because the thought-wave, starting in a left-hand 
spiral from Constantinople, would be bumped up by the Taurus 
mountains and the dryness of the desert to the North of them, 
and would pass very high over Yozgad. Down at the Medi- 
terranean coast things would be simple, for the wave would 
pass low down over the surface of the sea. The Black Sea 
would be almost as hopeless as Yozgad, unless we went out a 
long way from shore to where the wave had again reached the 
surface of the water. The best time to pick it up would be 
when it was at its strongest, i.e., in the night. 

The next step was to dangle a fresh bait in front of the 
Turks. We had got the sea — ^we wanted the boat. 

"I have an idea of trying the 'Four Cardinal Point Receiver* 
if you will help," said the Spook. 

Moise naturally asked what the 'Four Cardinal Point Re- 
ceiver' might be. 

The Spook told us it was a secret method of thought-reading 
not known in our sphere. It had once been known to the an- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 233 

cient Egyptians (the Pimple pricked up his ears at the mention 
of- Egypt) but the knowledge had been lost. It was based on 
the principle which we had already learned — "that once a 
thought has been thought it is always there," or, in more tech- 
nical language, the thought-wave once created becomes tele- 
chronistic and travels in an eternal spiral in the fourth di- 
mension of space. The method of the Four Cardinal Point 
Receiver was infinitely preferable to our cumbersome "trance- 
talk" and "Ouija" methods of thought-reading, because by them 
you could only read the thoughts of persons you knew existed, 
whereas by the Eg5TDtian method every thought was accessible 
to us. "That is to say," said the Spook, "you can know any- 
thing that has ever happened anywhere and at any time. Not 
only this treasure but all treasures and all knowledge will be 
revealed." If we promised to try it, the Spook agreed to tell 
us how it was done, but it must be kept a profound secret. 

We promised, and the secret was revealed. I present it, free 
of charge, to all mediums, amateur and professional, who 
happen to be at a loss to invent some fresh leg-pull. Here 
it is: 

Get on to the surface of the sea — preferably in a boat — so 
as to be on a level with the main body of the thought-wave. 
Go at night when the wave is at its strongest. Take with you, 
ready prepared, a drink that is stimulating to the nerves — 
e.g., coffee. Four of you, facing in different directions, drink 
quickly and in silence. Then lie down, and pillow your heads 
on vessels of pure water ^ — which will help to concentrate the 
telechronistic wave. Then coimt three hundred and thirty- 
three. Having counted, think of a pleasant memory for five 
minutes. All this to be done with your eyes open. The 
counting should be aloud, but in a low murmuring tone, and 
the process of counting up to three hundred and thirty-three 
and thinking for five minutes must be repeated three times in 
all, for three is the mystic number in the system. The object 
so far is to make the mind "receptive." You next think hard 
of what you want to discover. 

"Then," said the Spook, "you try to — well, there is no 
human word for it. It is something like going to sleep, and 

* Pure water is useful on a voyage to Cyprus. 



234 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

the sensations are similar, if you are going to be successful, 
you will drop OUT, as it were. Do you understand?" 

"We do not understand the last sentence," said Moise. 

"It is difficult," the Spook said. "Once you have felt it you 
will understand. It is like dropping to sleep, but it is really 
dropping out of what you call the present time and place into 
the past time and place which you willed to see." 

"Are only the mediums able to see, or everybody?" 

"It will be all, or none," said the Spook. 

Here was "some offer!" Not merely one treasure, but all 
treasures would be ours. And Asia Minor every Turk believes, 
is full of buried treasure. The stuff hidden before the recent 
Armenian massacres would be a fortune in itself, and when one 
thought of the past — of the Greeks, and Romans, and Persians 
— why! There was no limit to the wealth that lay within our 
grasp. 

"I am so glad we chose the seaside for our holiday," said the 
Pimple. "It fits in beautifully." 

"It does," we agreed. 

"But I don't quite understand about this 'dropping OUT,' 
do you?" 

"No," said Hill slowly. "Seems to be something like a 
trance. Anyway, the Spook has promised we'll know all about 
it when we wake up." 

"Fancy," said Moise, "all treasures and all knowledge! I 
do hope we can leave Yozgad soon." 

He went off to dream about all the treasures of all time for 
the few hours that remained of the night. 

I looked across the spook-board at Hill. His face was 
drawn with weariness. Seances lasted anything up to six 
hours; it had been a very hard week, and he was pinched and 
pale with hunger. But his eyes were glittering. 

"What do you think?" I asked. 

He pulled out of his pocket two little tubes of morphia pills 
and looked at them reflectively. 

"I was wondering," he said, "how many of these it takes in 
coffee to kill a man. It would be a pity to murder the Pimple, 
he's such a True Believer, and I'd like to get him an intro- 
duction to Sir Oliver Lodge." 

"But," I objected, "when he wakes up and finds himself, 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 235 

half way to Cyprus, he won't be a True Believer any more, 
and he'll try to cut Lodge's throat if he meets him." 

"Don't you believe it," said Hill. "True Believers remain 
True Believers right through everything. When our three wake 
up they'll think that 000 is in charge of the boat — that's alH" 



CHAPTER XX 

IN WHICH WE ARE FOn,ED BY A FRIEND 



I 



■^HE idea of the immense wealth that awaited them 
at the coast filled the minds of the Turks to the ex- 
clusion of everything else. The original treasure — 
a mere £18,000 — became insignificant and paltry; 
and, compared with the Four Cardinal Point Receiver, the 
methods of discovering it were cumbersome and uncertain. 
The Cook, especially, was in flames to start at once, and had 
he been our Commandant the next day would have seen us 
galloping for the coast. For the Cook was a very thorough 
sort of rascal and he saw no sense in bothering about regula- 
tions and the War Office when a bit of hard riding would put 
him in a position of affluence where he could bribe the whole 
of Turkey, if necessary. We could get to the coast and back 
again, he urged, before the War Office knew we had left Yog- 
gad, so why bother the Spook to get Kiazim leave or to get 
the mediums formally transferred? Let us go! 

Unfortunately the Spook had promised to make the Com- 
mandant safe with his superiors at each step, and Kiazim, 
being a timid man, wanted to be satisfied that no harm could 
come of it to himself before he moved. He would have liked 
to have adopted the Cook's suggestion, but the Commandant 
feared some tell-tale in the Yozgad office might inform head- 
quarters of his departure. Once we were on the road together 
that fear would cease to exist, but we must leave Yozgad 
openly and for a sufiicient cause. His medical leave, and our 
transfer, would be ample excuse. 

Had Hill and I been at all uncertain of our ability to effect 
what Kiazim desired, the Spook might have insisted on our 
adopting the Cook's suggestion. But so far as we could see, 
our plans were perfect. We had only to hoodwink the Turkish 

236 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 237 

doctors into commending our transfer to get everything that 
Kiazim required, and he would then come with us joyously, 
of his own free will, instead of nervously and under orders. 
As the Pimple pointed out to the impatient Cook, Kiazim 
could then conduct us to the destination recommended by the 
doctors via the coast. 

Besides, there was Matthews. Apart from our friendship for 
him and our anxiety to get a third man out of Turkey, his 
assistance would be invaluable to us. Our plan to include 
him in our party was what the Turks call the "cream of the 
coffee." Hill and I had gone over it scores of times, inventing, 
selecting, discarding, improving, until at last we could see no 
flaw. It involved waiting for the Afion party to leave, but 
we already intended to do that in order to get hold of the 
Commandant, and we saw no danger in the delay. So we had 
sent word to Matthews that all was going well and that he 
would get his "operation orders" in a day or two. Meantime, 
while he busied himself with astronomical calculations and 
invented a sun-compass (which was afterwards used, I believe, 
by Cochrane and his party in their escape), we made our 
final preparations for deceiving the Turkish doctors into order- 
ing our transfer and reduced our daily rations to five slices of 
dry toast in my case, and three slices for Hill, who considered 
himself still obnoxiously fat. 

Then, with the sudden unexpectedness of thunder in a clear 
sky, the crash came. 

The reader will remember that when replying to Colonel 
Maule's objections to our taking the places of two members 
of the Afion party, the Spook had told Moise to let it be known 
that although we would not take anyone's place, we would be 
added to the party because the Commandant was anxious to 
get rid of us. Moise had obeyed the Spook, and it was soon 
knov/n in the camp that we were leaving Yozgad. We had not 
imagined any possible harm could come of our friends knowing 
it. It would have been perfectly easy to keep the j:amp in 
complete ignorance of our movements until the day came to 
leave Yozgad. We paid dearly for our mistake. 

One of the members of the Afion party was X. X was a 
close friend of mine. When Hill and I were locked up by the 
Commandant, he put both his possessions and his services en- 



238 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

tirely at our disposal, offered to send word about us to England 
by means of his private cipher system, and was as ready as 
any to incur risks on our behalf. Indeed, throughout our im- 
prisonment he had been a thorn in the flesh of the Pimple, for 
he let no opportunity slip of pestering that unhappy individual 
with questions about our welfare, and was constantly trying 
to discover the Commandant's intentions towards us. Such 
was his assiduity in what he supposed were our interests that 
he had become something of a nuisance to the Turks, and they 
several times complained about him, contrasting his interfer- 
ence with the laissez-faire attitude of the rest of the camp. 
The Spook had seized the first opportunity to name X as the 
"medium" through whom 000 was trying to discover our 
plans.^ This had explained X's questions at the time to every- 
body's amusement and satisfaction, but it was to have most 
woeful consequences. 

Shortly after Moise had made his intimation about us to 
the camp, Hill and I were debating how soon our starvation 
would have reduced us enough to face the doctors with secur- 
ity, and had just decided that another three or four days 
should be sufficient, when the Pimple came in. 

"Once again," he announced, "X has been at it. He says 
he does not want to travel with you two in the same party." 

"Why not?" we asked in genuine amazement. "What on 
earth is the matter with him now?" 

"He says he thinks you will try to escape on the way from 
Yozgad to Angora, and then he and the rest of the party will 
be strafed. So they don't want you with them." 

Hill and I laughed. It was a difficult thing to do on the 
spur of the moment, but we managed to laugh quite naturally 
We pretended to find much amusement in X's ignorance of the 
real object of our journey. The Pimple was almost equally 
amused. Then our conversation turned to other matters. 

"I wonder if he was testing us?" Hill said when the Pimple 
had gone. 

"I don't think so," I replied. "He dropped the subject 
too quick. If it had been a trap he would have shown more 
interest in it. . X said it all right, I expect. He is probably 

- * See p. 208. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 239 

trying to frighten the Commandant out of sending us away, to 
be 'strafed,' as he thinks! He's had that bee in his bonnet 
ever since the trial." 

"I still think it is a trap," Hill said. "Even if X had a 
whole hive in his hat he wouldn't say a fool think like that!" 

"We'll be on pretty thin ice if they ask the Spook about 
it," I said. "Are we to believe X said it, or not?" 

We were not left long in doubt. While we were talking, 
Matthews, Price, and Doc. O'Farrell came in. They all looked 
unhappy, and after a few generalities and beating about the 
bush they "broke the news" to us that the Commandant had 
been "warned." 

"The Pimple has just told us," we said. 

The three looked their astonishment. 

"What's to happen to you?" Matthews asked, with con- 
sternation in his voice. 

"Nothing at all," I said. "The Pimple knows X was playing 
the ass, and is laughing at him for being so wide of the mark. 
We'll carry on as usual. The Spook business is still going 
strong, and we've got the plan for your inclusion well worked 
out." 

"You think no harm was done?" 

"None at all," we said. 

We were wrong. For several days we "carried on" boldly 
with our plans, but with each visit of the Pimple we became 
more and more certain that there was something in the wind 
of which we were ignorant. We dared not question, and could 
only wait. Then came an evening when the Pimple burst in 
on us in high excitement. 

"The Commandant is a timid fool," he said viciously. "He 
is troubled about X. I tell him it is all right. But still he 
is troubled. Mon Dieu! He is no man, but a woman in the 
uniform of Bimbashi." 

Hill and I laughed. 

"You mean he believes X, and thinks we are going to try 
and escape?" 

"O no! No!" the Pimple said. "He is not so great a fool 
as that. He knows you are too weak to go ten miles. For 
are you not starved? Are you not lame? But he is troubled. 
He thinks this is a warning, not of what you intend to do, 



240 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

but what our Spook or perhaps 000 intends to do for you. 
He fears the Spook or 000 will make you disappear." 

''But how could X know what the Spook " 

"You see," the Pimple interrupted, "X is the medium of 
OOO. He has been the mouthpiece of 000 in asking many 
questions. Now he is the mouthpiece of 000 in giving a 
warning. That is what the Commandant thinks. I tell him 
110 doubt X is the medium of 000; no doubt this message 
is from 000, but the object of it is plain! It is evident! 
Have we not had experience to tell us what it means? Is it not 
one last despairing effort by 000 to frighten the Commandant, 
to stop him from sending the mediums to find the treasure? 
But he will not listen to me. He is troubled, much troubled. 
Even now he has gone to his witch, to ask her to read the 
cards. He is a damn fool, and a coward! Why does he not 
trust the Spook? Everything it has promised the Spook has 
done, and still he is afraid! He will spoil everything!" 

"Let him!" I stretched my arms and yawned. "I for one 
won't be sorry if he stops now. We've learned the secret of 
the Four Points Receiver, and I don't see what more Hill and 
I are likely to get out of this. We get no share in the treasure 
and you can take it from me it's no joke living on dry toast 
and tea. I don't mind how soon he gives it up and sends us 
back to the camp and decent food again." 

"Nor I," Hill chimed in. "The Commandant can take his 
treasure or leave it, as he likes. I'll be glad to end this starva- 
tion business. And if he angers the Spook it will be his funer- 
al, not ours! I'll go back to camp with pleasure." 

The Pimple grabbed his cap and jumped to his feet. "What 
about my share — my share and the Cook's?" he cried. "Stay 
where you are! Don't go back to camp! I go to see him! It 
will be all right." He rushed excitedly from the house, to 
argue with his superior officer. 

His efforts and the Cook's were of no avail. The Com- 
mandant was thoroughly scared. The more he thought of what 
X had said the more certain he became that it was an utter- 
ance from the world beyond, to which it behoved him to pay 
heed. He distrusted us not at all, but he was superlatively 
afraid of the unseen powers, and especially of 000. Once 
already 000 had temporarily gained the upper hand and 



The road to en-dor 241! 

nearly murdered us by the explosion. Supposing next time 
he succeeded? What was to prevent 000 from killing not 
only the two mediums, but the whole batch of treasure-hunters? 
Our Spook could not be everywhere at once, as had beeiK 
proved, and though Kiazim vowed he trusted him, he could 
not feel quite certain that no more mistakes would be made.. 
The "opposition" was so very strong! 

At the same time, the man wanted his treasure. We gath- 
ered from the Pimple, by means of very judicious pumping^ 
that if the treasure could be found without the Commandant 
involving himself in any way with the War Office, or doing 
anything irregular,' or being seen in our company, then all 
would be well. But he would not wilhngly commit himself — 
he was "trh poltron" — and "the cards" had not been very 
favourable. 

The situation had its humorous side. With much toil Hill 
and I had built up in the Turks a belief in the existence of a 
spirit-world peopled by powerful personalities capable of in- 
terfering in mundane affairs and of controlling the actions 
of us mortals. We had created a spirit who was labouring for 
us, and to explain why so omnipotent a personality should not 
at once achieve its aim we had been forced to invent an op- 
position spirit in whom the Turks believed as fully as in our 
own Spook. These two great forces were struggling for the 
strings which moved us human marionettes. Until X came 
into the arena, all had gone well, and the Turks had been con- 
tent to remain automata and to obey blindly the pulls at their 
strings. But now there was a split in our camp. Kiazim was 
assailed with doubt as to the genuine intentions of our Spook, 
and, on the other hand, with fears that 000 might eventually 
prove supreme. But never for a single moment had he any 
doubts about the mediums. So it came about that our chief 
jciiler gravely pointed out to us the possibility that we might 
be forced to escape by the unseen powers, which would have 
dangerous consequences for himself. He knew we would help 
him to prevent it, if we could, but alas! we were mere instru- 
ments in the hands of the Unseen. We could give him no 
advice, except to trust the Spook, which was precisely what 
he would not do. 

Outwardly Hill and I were like the mother turkey — ^"more 



2^ THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

than usual calm"; we pretended not to care what happened. 
But between ourselves we raged at X for his interference, and 
at our own carelessness in letting our intended movements be 
known too early. It looked as if all our hard work and our 
starvation had been in vain. Kiazim was ready, at the first 
hint of danger, to give up the treasure-hunt altogether, and 
he had quite made up his mind to take no active part in the 
matter for the future. He would not, for instance, travel 
with us, or grant leave to Mo'ise or the Cook, and we knew it 
would be hopeless to try the "lost-in-the-post" letter. 

Hill and I felt that we had no choice but to give up, for 
the time being, our kidnapping scheme. Perhaps our nerve 
was a little broken by X's unexpected intervention. A few 
more remarks of that nature, we felt, might switch suspicion 
on to us. Suspicion might lead to unexpected tests, and un- 
expected tests to discovery. What the result of that might 
be we did not like to contemplate. 

We put Matthews' "operation orders" in the fire next day, 
and told him we dared not go on. He agreed, regretfully, that 
we were right. 



CHAPTER XXI 

IN WHICH WE DECIDE TO BECOME MAD AND THE SPOOK GETS 
US CERTIFICATES OF LUNACY 

OUR last hope was to go mad, and try for exchange. 
We came to the decision reluctantly, after a discus- 
sion that went on far into the night. Then a thing 
happened that went far to restore my ebbing faith 
in human nature. Hill got up from his chair, and after pacing 
the room a Httle while, he stopped, facing me. 

"I will stand down, old chap," he said. "If two of us go mad 
together it will lessen the chances of each not by half, but a 
hundredfold, and one man, on his own, has a poor enough 
chance against the Constantinople specialists. So I will stand 
down, and good luck to you!" 

"We have agreed that the mad stunt is now our best — our 
only chance," I objected. 

"Yes," he admitted. "But think of it — two fellows from 
the same camp going mad at the same time. It is hopeless. 
I'd love to join you, but I'm not going to spoil your chance. 
Your only hope is to go alone." 

I like to think of the half hour that followed, and of the 
depths it revealed in Hill's friendship for me. We were at the 
gloomiest period of the war — April 191 8. The German suc- 
cesses lost nothing in the recounting in Turkish newspapers. 
To every appearance our imprisonment might last for years. 
Yet Hill tried hard to sacrifice his last faint hope of liberty 
for my sake. In the end I reminded him that we had pledged 
ourselves to stick together, and threatened that if he returned 
to camp I would fulfil my part of the contract by going back 
with him. 

"Well, Bones," he said. "I'll come. I don't know what 
special Idnd of miseries the Turks keep for malingering lunatics^, 

243 



244 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

but I promise you that without your permission they'll never 
find out through me." 

I made him the same promise. Three months later I was 
to regret it most bitterly, for Hill then lay at death's door in 
Gumush Suyu hospital, and forbade me to say the few words 
of confession that would have got him the humane treatment 
he required. 

Our Spook had a delicate task regaining its full authority 
over Kiazim. It began by developing the Commandant's own 
plan — a process to which he could hardly object — and laying 
stress on its desire to keep Kiazim in the background. It 
reminded us that in order to avoid OOO's interference it was 
better for us not to know what method would be ultimately 
adopted. But there was no harm in preparing for a trip to 
Constantinople to read the thoughts of AAA. And if we failed, 
which was unlikely, we could try some other method when we 
returned to Yozgad. Meantime, Kiazim need do nothing but 
tell the truth, in which there was never any harm. It did 
not reprove Kiazim for lack of faith, or pretend to know any- 
thing about his temporary secession, but went on quietly as 
if nothing had occurred. 

The Commandant was perfectly ready \o tell the truth, but 
wanted to know to whom he was to tell it, and what he was 
to say! The Spook told him. He was to call in the Turkish 
doctors and make them the following statement, which he 
should learn by heart: 

'T am anxious about two of my prisoners, and I want your 
professional advice that I may act on it. I have reason to 
believe they are mentally affected, and that the English doctor 
IS endeavouring to conceal the fact.^ A certain number of 
the prisoners, amongst whom Jones and Hill were prominent, 
have been studying occultism ever since they arrived. They 
admittedly practise telepathy, and were arrested for communi- 
cation with people outside on military matters. For direct 
evidence as to their conduct during their confinement I refer 
you to my Interpreter (Moise) and my orderly (the Cook) 

* Acting under the Spook's order, Mo'ise had previously cross- 
examined Doc. O'Farrell, who, by agreement with us, had shown 
confusion and hesitation when asked if he thought we were mad, 
and had finally denied our insanity. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 245 

who have seen a good deal of them. If they have become 
mentally unhinged I fear they may do something desperate, 
and would like you to send them to Constantinople where they 
can be properly looked after, or do whatever you think is best 
for them." 

The Commandant would then produce the Cook. His story 
to the doctors was to be as follows: 

"By the Commandant's orders I attended Hill and Jones 
in their imprisonment, as they were not allowed to communi- 
cate with other prisoners. I took them their food (from Posh 
Castle) . At first I noticed nothing peculiar. After a few 
days, in brushing out their room, I began to find bits of meat 
hidden away in the corners. I used to give these to my 
chickens. I do not know why the meat was thus thrown away 
because the prisoners cannot talk Turkish. I also found 
charred remains of bread and other food in the stove. A few 
days ago the prisoners forbade me to sweep out their room. 
I do not know why. They usually look depressed and silent. 
That is all I know." 

Then the Pimple: 

"I know both Jones and Hill well. When they first arrived 
they were both smart and soldierlike. They have gradually 
become more and more untidy and slovenly. Forv over a 
year they have been studying occultism, and I know they 
achieved some extraordinary results, e.g., they got the first 
news that came to Yozgad of the taking of Baghdad. There 
were many other things. At one time spirit-communiques 
were published in the camp. All the other prisoners knew 
of it and many believed in it. The first peculiarity I noticed 
was that occasionally one or the other of them would write 
an extraordinary letter, abusing certain officers and the camp 
in gfeneral. I thought at the time these letters were due to 
drink, and tore them up. This was many months ago. I 
remonstrated with them for using such language about their 
fellow-officers.^ I do not know when they began what they 
call 'telepathy,' but I used to come upon them studying to- 
gether. I was present at their public exhibition (description 

* Of course no such letters were ever written. Moise was willing 
to lie as much as the Spook wanted. 



246 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

follows). Nobody has ever given me a satisfactory explana- 
tion of their powers. 

"When Hill and Jones were imprisoned on March 7th it 
was my duty to visit them every day and try to elicit the 
name of their correspondent, which the Commandant wanted. 
Sometimes they were rude to me, sometimes polite, sometimes 
sullen. At first they got food sent in from Major Baylay's 
mess (Posh Castle). I now remember that soon after they 
were locked up they began to ask me if Major Baylay was 
abusing them. About 20th March or a little before they 
began to beg to be allowed to cook their own food, or for the 
Turks to cook it. When I asked why, they first said they did 
not want to cause trouble in the camp. I saw Major Baylay 
and Price, of the Posh Castle mess, who said it was no trouble, 
and they would continue sending food. When I told this to 
Hill and Jones they got excited, insisted that they must not 
give trouble, and finally told me in confidence that Major 
Baylay was putting poison in the meat, and that they were 
afraid he would poison the other food too. I thought they 
were joking about the poison, and that the real reason was 
they did not wish to give trouble, but I arranged for them to 
cook their own food. I now understand that they did not 
intend it as a joke — their belief explains why they hid the 
meat which the Cook found. 

"On the I St of April the order came from Constantinople 
to release them. When I told them of this they were very 
frightened. They asked me to keep the door locked, and said 
this order did not really come from Constantinople, but was 
an arrangement between Major Baylay and the postmaster 
who had been paid ten liras to forge a telegram. They said 
the real object of the telegram was to stop them writing to the 
British War Office about Baylay (it forbade them write any 
letters), and to get them outside so that they could be mur- 
dered. This alarmed me, as they were obviously serious. I 
fetched in the English camp doctor, but did not tell him my 
suspicions about their sanity. I was present during the doc- 
tor's examination, and noticed the two prisoners were reticent 
and said nothing about Baylay. The doctor seemed puzzled. 
He paid several visits and was vague when I questioned him. 
He mentioned neurasthenia, but when I asked if that meant 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 24;; 

nervous trouble he shut up and did not answer. He was ob- 
viously alarmed about them. To please them and give the 
doctor a chance, the door was kept locked for several days, 
in spite of the War Office order to liberate them. Then I 
had to inform the camp that they were free, Hill and Jones 
were terrified and begged me not to allow any English officers 
to visit them. 

"When visitors came Hill and Jones got very excited. They 
were rude to many of their friends. They complained to me 
that these officers had been sent by Major Baylay and Colonel 
Maule to murder them. They complained that one officer — 
Captain Colbeck — had asked them to come out, with the ob- 
ject of killing them, and when they refused to go had threat- 
ened to take them by force.^ I found out that the truth was 
their visitor was alarmed by their altered appearance, and 
thought it would do them good to have tea in Baylay's gar- 
den. Hill and Jones thought they were being enticed out to 
be killed. They also complained to me that Baylay had 
visited them,^ and had scattered poison about the room, and 
had poisoned some bread, which they had to burn in conse- 
quence. When asked why they would not allow the Cook to 
sweep the room they said if he did so it would liberate the 
poison which Baylay had put in the dust. They next began 
to distrust the English doctor and to think he was an emissary 
of Baylay's. They pretended to take his medicine, but con- 
fided to me that they dared not do so, and showed me a bottle 
of Dover Powder which the doctor had given them, pointing 
out that it was labelled 'poison.'" (O'Farrell had provided 
us with medicines for his "neurasthenia" diagnosis, but had in- 
structed us not to take them.) 

* We had to provide against the danger of independent enquiry by 
the doctors amongst our fellow-prisoners. Therefore, wherever 
possible, we distorted facts so that enquiry, if made, would reveal 
as a basis for our delusions some incident which had really oc- 
curred and which had (apparently) been misunderstood by us. 
Thus, in the present instance, Colbeck did threaten (jokingly, of 
course) to take us out by force when we refused his invitation to 
tea. 

* He did — a friendly visit to support Colbeck's invitation to tea. 
At this visit he gave me permission to say what I liked_ about him 
to the Turks. I used it freely to name him as my principal "perse- 
cutor' and my "would-be murderer." 



^4^ 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 



"When Constantinople, in their telegram of April ist, pro- 
hibited Hill and Jones from writing to England, they began 
to write extraordinary letters to high Turkish officials and also 
to the Sultan. This alarmed me. I could get no satisfaction 
from the English doctor. I therefore asked you gentlemen 
to tell me the early symptoms of madness" — (This was true 
enough. Moise had done so, acting under instructions from 
the Spook) — "and learned enough to make me fairly certain 
that the English doctor was concealing the truth. With the 
Commandant's consent I then questioned the English doctor." 
(This interview was also ordered by the Spook, O'Farrell hav- 
ing been previously warned by us.) ''He was again vague, 
said the two men could be treated and looked after here, and 
appeared to be afraid of a Turkish asylum. I reported what 
O'Farrell had said to the Commandant, and he decided he must 
have proper medical advice, as they are gradually getting more 
violent." 

Moi'se was then to produce the letters we had written to 
the "high Turkish officials." The Spook told us these letters 
were written by himself. We pretended, at the time of writing 
them, that we were "under control" and quite unconscious of 
what we were writing. Moise and the Commandant, of course, 
quite believed this. 

I give below two specimens of the many letters we wrote. 
In my letters the handwriting was very scrawly and hurried, 
there were frequent repetitions, and occasionally words were 
left out. The first is to the Sultan, the second to Enver 
Pasha. Hill was supposed to be forced to write by me. 

"To the Light of the World, the Ruler of the Universe, and 
Protector of the Poor, the Sword & Breastplate of the True 
Faith, his most gracious Majesty Abdul Hamid the of Turkey, 
Greeting: This is the humble petition of two of your Majesty's 
prisoners of War now at Yozgad in Anatolia. We humbly ask 
your most gracious protection. We remain here in danger of 
our lives owing to the plots of the camp against us. They 
are all in league against us. Baylay is determined to poison 
lis.^ He tried to drag us into the garden to murder us. He 
is in league with all the camp against us. We cannot eat 
the food they send because he puts poison in it. Colonel 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 249 

Maule has said to the Commandant he is going to get rid of 
us. Also the doctor who was our friend until Baylay per- 
suaded him to give us poison instead of medicine. Please 
protect us. The Commandant is our friend. When Baylay 
tried to he said no and put us in a nice house please give him 
a high decoration for his kindness we cannot go out because 
Baylay will kill us and all the camp hate us who shall in 
duty bound ever pray for your gracious Majesty. 

"E. H. Jones. C. W. Hill." 

Dear Mr. Enver Pasha, 

"I don't suppose your Excellency will know who I 
am, but Jones says he knows you. He met you in Mosul. 
Will you help us? The other prisoners want to kill us. The 
ringleader is Major Baylay. He gave a letter to the Turks 
and said we wrote it. He thought the Commandant would 
hang us. But the Commandant was very kind to us and gave 
us a house to ourselves and locked the door so that Baylay 
could not get at us. We were very happy until Baylay started 
poisoning our food. Then we the Commandant said we could 
cook our own food and now he leaves the door open and we 
are in terror lest Major Baylay comes and kills us he did 
come one day and tried to entice us into the garden and he 
now sends the doctor to give us poison the doctor pretends it is 
medicine but we know better. Will you please write to the 
Commandant and ask him to lock the door. 

"Your obedient servants, 

"C. W. Hill. E. H. Jones." 

Such was the case that was laid before the two official 
Turkish doctors in Yozgad, Major Osman and Captain Suhbi 
Fahri, by the principal officials of the prisoners' camp on the 
morning of April 13th, 1918. We knew nothing of the med- 
ical attainments of Major Osman or Captain Suhbi Fahri, but 
we calculated that if the officers in charge of a camp of German 
prisoners in England made similar statements about two 
prisoners to the local English doctors, and told them (as the 
Turks were told) that the German doctor in the camp was 
trying to conceal the true state of affairs with a view to 
keeping the two men from the horrors of an English asylum, 



250 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

it ought to create an atmosphere most favourable to malin- 
gerers. In Yozgad we had the additional advantage that the 
Turkish doctors were very jealous of O'Farrell, whose medical 
skill had created a great impression amongst the local officials, 
and were only too delighted at a chance of proving him 
wrong. But the outstanding merit of the scheme was that it 
avoided implicating O'Farrell. We would face the Constan- 
tinople specialists purely on the recommendation of the Turks, 
and O'Farrell's disagreement with the local doctors would make 
him perfectly safe if we were found out. Also O'Farrell's 
whole attitude towards us, his fellow-prisoners, would help us 
to deceive the specialists, because it would be a strong argu- 
ment against the theory that we were malingering, for it would 
be natural to suppose that the English doctor would seek to 
help rather than hinder us to leave Yozgad. The Turks are 
not sufficiently conversant with Poker to recognize a bluff of 
the second degree. 

The Spook had promised the Commandant to place us under 
control and make us seem mad when the doctors visited us. 
It succeeded to perfection, for we had left no stone imturned 
to deceive the Turks. 

We were unshaven, unwashed, and looked utterly disreput- 
able. For over three weeks we had been living on a very 
short ration of dry bread and tea. For the last three days 
we had eaten next to nothing, and by the 13th April we were 
literally starving. We sat up all night on the 12 th, that our 
eyes might be dull when the doctors came, and we took heavy 
doses of phenacetin at frequent intervals, to slow down our 
pulses. AH night we kept the windows and doors shut, and 
the stove red-hot and roaring, and smoked hard, so that by 
morning the atmosphere was indescribable. We scattered filth 
about the room, which had already remained a v/eek upswept, 
and strewed it with slop-pails, empty tins, torn paper, and 
clothing. Near the door we upset a bucket of dirty water; 
in the centre of the floor was a heap of soiled linen, and 
close beside it what looked like the remains of a morning meal. 
Over all we sprinkled a precious bottle of EUiman's Embroca- 
tion, adding a new odour to the awful atmosphere. An hour 
before the doctors were due. Hill began smoking strong plug 
tobacco, which always makes him sick. The Turks, being 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 251 

Turks, were ninety minutes late. Hill kept puffing valiantly 
at his pipe, and by the time they arrived he had the horrible, 
greeny-yellow hue that is known to those who go down to the 
sea in ships. 

It was a lovely spring morning outside. The snow had 
gone. The countryside, fresh from the rains, was bathed in 
sunlight, and a fine fresh breeze was blowing. We heard 
Moise and the doctors coming up our stairs, laughing and 
chatting together. Captain Suhbi Fahri, still talking, opened 
the door of our room — and stopped in the middle of a sen- 
tence. It takes a pretty vile atmosphere to astonish a Turk, 
but the specimen of "fug" we had so laboriously prepared took 
bis breath away. The two doctors stood at the door and 
talked in whispers to Moise, 

Hill, with a British warm up to his ears and a balaclava 
on his tousled head, sat huddled motionless over the red-hot 
stove, warming his hands. On the other side of the stove I 
wrote furiously, dashing off sheet after sheet of manuscript and 
hurling them on to the floor. 

Their examination of us was a farce. If their minds were 
not already made up before they entered, the state of our 
room and our appearance completely satisfied them. Major 
Osman never left the door. Captain Suhbi Fahri tiptoed 
silently round the room, peering into our scientist-trapping slop- 
pails and cag-heaps, until he got behind my chair, when I 
whirled round on him in a frightened fury, and he retreated 
suddenly to the door again. Neither of them sought to inves- 
tigate our reflexes — the test we feared most of all — but they 
contented themselves with a few questions which were put 
through Moise in whispers, and translated to us by him. 

They began with me: 

Major Osman. "What are you writing?" 

Self (nervously). "It is not finished yet." The question 
was repeated several times; each time I answered in the same 
words, and immediately began writing again. 

Major Osman. "What is it?" 

Self. "A plan." (Back to my writing. More whispering 
between the doctors at the door.) 

Major Osman. "What plan?" 



252 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Self. "A scheme." 

Major Osman. "What scheme?" 

Self. 'A scheme to divide up England at the end of the 
war. A scheme for the aboHtion of England 1 Go away! 
you're bothering me." 

(More whispering at the door.) 

Major Osman. "Why do you want to do that?" 

Self. "Because the English hate us." 

Major Osman. ''Your father is English. Does he hate 
you?" 

Self. "Yes. He has not written to me for a long time. 
He puts poison in my parcels. He is in league with Major 
Baylay. It is all Major Baylay's doing." 

I grew more and more excited, and burst into a torrent of 
talk about my good friend Baylay's "enmity," waving my 
arms and raving furiously. The two doctors looked on aghast, 
and I noticed Captain Subhi Fahri changed his grip on his 
silver-headed cane to the thin end. It took them quite a time 
to quieten me down again. At last I gathered up my scattered 
manuscript and resumed my writing. Hill had never moved 
or paid the slightest attention to the pandemonium. They 
turned to him. 

Major Osman. "Why are you keeping the room so hot? 
It is a warm day." 

(Moi'se had to call Hill by name and repeat the question 
several times before Hill appeared to realize that he was being 
addressed. Then he raised a starving, grey-green, woebegone 
face to his questioners.) 

"Cold," he said, and huddled an inch nearer the stove, 

"Why don't you go out?" asked Major Osman. 

"Baylay," said Hill, without lifting his head. 

"Why don't you sweep the floor?" 

"Poison in dust." 

"Why is there poison in the dust?" 

"Baylay," said the monotonous voice again. 

"Is there anything you want?" Major Osman asked. 

Hill lifted his head once more. 

"Please tell the Commandant to lock the door and you go 
away," then he turned his back on his questioners. 

The two doctors, followed by Moise, tiptoed down the 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 253 

stairs. We heard the outer gate clang, listened carefully to 
make sure they had gone, and then let loose the laughter we 
had bottled up so long. For both the Turkish doctors had 
clearly been scared out of their wits by us. 

Moi'se came back later with our certificates of lunacy. They 
were imposing documents, written in a beautiful hand, and 
each decorated with two enormous seals. The following is 
a translation as it was written out by the Pimple at our 
request: — 

"HILL. This officer is in a very calm condition, thinking. 
His face is long, not very fat. Breath heavy. He has been 
seen very thinking. He gave very short answers. There is no 
(? life) in his answers. There is a nervousness in his present 
condition. He states that his life is in danger and he wants 
the door to be locked because a Major is going to kill him. 
By his answers and by the fact he is not taking any food, it 
seems that he is suffering from melancholia. We beg to re- 
port that it is necessary he be sent to Constantinople for 
treatment and observation and a final examination by a 
specialist." 

"JONES. This officer appears to be a furious. Weak con- 
stitution. His hands were shaking and was busy writing when 
we went to see him. When asked what he was writing he 
answered that it was a plan for the abolition of England be- 
cause the English were his enemies; even his father was on 
their part because he was not sending letters. His life is in 
danger. A Major wants to kill him and has put poison in 
his meat. That is why he is not eating. He requested nobody 
may be allowed to come and the door may be locked. Accord- 
ing to the statement of the orderly and other officers this officer 
has been over-studving spiritualism. He says that the doctor 
was giving him poison instead of medicine. According to 
his answers and his present condition he seems to suffer from 
a derangement in his brains. We beg to report that it is 
necessary to send him to Constantinople for observation and 
treatment." 



^54 THE ROAD TO EN DOE 

Both reports were signed and sealed by 

"Major Osman, Bacteriologist in charge of Infectious 
Diseases at Yozgad." 

"Captain Suhbi Fahri, District Doctor in charge of Infec- 
tious Diseases at Yozgad." 

"Your control," said Moise to us, "was* wonderful — mar- 
vellous. Your very expressions had altered. The doctors said 
your looks were 'very bad, treacherous, haine.' You, Jones, 
have a fixed delusion — {idee fixee) — and Hill has melan- 
cholia, they say. They have ordered that a sentry be posted 
to prevent your committing suicide and that you and your 
room be thoroughly cleaned, by force if necessary. Do you 
remember the doctors' visit?" 

Our memories, we said, were utterly blank, and we got the 
Pimple to relate what had occurred. 

"It was truly a glorious exhibition of the power of our 
Spook," the Pimple ended, "and the Commandant is greatly 
pleased. I trust you suffer no ill-effects?" 

We were only very tired, and very anxious that the doc- 
tors' suggestions as to cleaning up should be carried out. Sen- 
tries were called in. Our bedding and possessions were moved 
to a clean room, and we were led out into the yard and made 
to bathe in the horse-trough. Then we slept the sleep of the 
successful conspirator till evening. 








r 3 



J 



CHAPTER XXn 

HOW THE SPOOK CORRESPONDED WITH THE TURKISH WAR 
OFFICE AND GOT A REPLY 

I WOKE at sunset to find Doc. O'Farrell bending over me. 
"Doctors been here?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. I 
nodded. 
"And what's the result?" 

"Did you see the sentry at the door?" I asked. 

"Don't tell me you're found out," Doc. moaned, "or I'll 
never forgive myself." 

"All right. Doc, dear! The sentry's there to prevent us 
committing suicide 1" 

Doc. stared a moment, and then doubled up with laughter 
that had to be silent because of the Turk outside. 

"Like to see the medical reports?" I asked, handing him 
the Pimple's translation. 

He began to read. At the first sentence he burst into a 
loud guffaw, and thrust the reports hastily out of sight. Luck- 
ily the gamekeeper at the door paid no attention. The Doc. 
apologized for his indiscretion and managed to read the rest 
in silence. 

"Think we've a chance?" Hill asked, as he finished. 

"Ye're a pair of unmitigated blackguards," said the Doc, 
"an' I'm sorry for the leech that's up against you. There's 
only one thing needed to beat the best specialist in Berlin 
or anywhere else, but as you both aim at getting to England 
you can't do it." 

"What is that?" we asked. 

"One of ye commit suicide!" said the Doc, laughing. 

"By Jove! That's a good idea!" I cried. "We'll both 
try it." 

"Don't be a fool!" he began sharply, then — seeing the 
merriment in our eyes — ^"Oh! be natural! Be natural an,' 

255 



256 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

you'll bamboozle ^sculapius himself." He dodged the pillow 
Kill threw at him and clattered down the stairs chuckling to 
himself. 

Within five minutes of his going we decided to hang our- 
selves— -''within limits"— on the way to Constantinople. 

A little later the Pimple arrived, with the compliments and 
thanks of the Commandant to the Spook, and would the Spook 
be so kind as to dictate a telegram about us to the War Office? 
The Spook was most obliging, and somewhere amongst the 
Turkish archives at Constantinople the following telegram 
reposes: 

^ "For over a year two officer prisoners here have spent much 
time in study of spiritualism and telepathy, and have shown 
increasing signs of mental derangement which recently have 
become very noticeable. I therefore summoned our military 
doctors Major Osman and Captain Suhbi Fahri who after 
examination diagnosed melancholia in the case of Hill and 
fixed delusion in the case of Jones and advised their despatch 
to Constantinople for observation and treatment. Doctors 
warn me these two officers may commit suicide or violence. I 
respectfully request I may be allowed to send them as soon 
as possible. Transport will be available in a few days when 
prisoners from Changri arrive. If permitted I shall send them 
with necessary escort under charge of my Interpreter who can 
watch and look after them en route and give any further 
information required by the specialists. Until his return may 
I have the services of the Changri Interpreter? My report 
together with the report of the doctors, follows by post. Sub^ 
mitted for favour of urgent orders." 

This spook-telegram was sent by the Commandant on 14th 
April, 191 8, at 5 p.m. The same night the Spook dictated 
a report on our case, of a character so useful to the Constan- 
tinople specialists that Kiazim was thanked for it by his 
superiors at headquarters. The spook-report (which should 
also be among the Constantinople archives) is as follows: 

"In reference to my wire of 14th April I beg to report as 
follows: As will be seen from the enclosed medical reports 
jyritten by Major Osman and Captain Suhbi Fahri, the Mill- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 257' 

f 
tary Medical Officers of Yozgad, there are two officers in this 
camp who are suffering from grave mental disease. The doc- 
tors recommend their despatch to Constantinople for observa- 
tion and treatment, and I beg to urge that this be done as 
early as possible, as the doctors warn me they may commit 
suicide or violence, and I am anxious to avoid any such trouble 
in this camp." 

Spook Report: 

"In addition to the information contained in the medical 
reports I beg to submit the following facts for guidance and 
consideration. The two officers are Lieut. Hill and Lieut. 
Jones. The former came here with the prisoners from Katia. 
The latter from Kut-el-Amara. I have made enquiries about 
both. I find Lieut, Hill has always been a remarkably silent 
and solitary man. He has the reputation of never speaking 
unless spoken to, and then only answers in monosyllables. 
During his stay here he has been growing more and more 
morose and gloomy. Lieut. Jones is regarded by his fellow- 
prisoners as eccentric and peculiar. I myself have noticed 
an increasing slovenliness in his dress since he came here. I 
learn that he has done a number of little things which caused 
his comrades to regard him as peculiar. For instance, sixteen 
months ago he spent a week sliding down the stairs in his 
house and calling himself the 'Toboggan King.' On another 
occasion when receiving a parcel from England in this office 
he expressed disgust at the 'rubbish' which was sent him, and 
drawing out a pocket-knife he slashed into ribbons a valuable 
waterproof sheet which had been included in his parcel. This 
was about a year ago.^ Such appears to be the reputation of 
these two officers in the camp. 

"About eighteen months ago a number of officers began to 
take up spiritualism. Among these Jones was prominent. He 

*This was founded on fact. The Turkish officials who were 
unpacking my parcel said v/aterproof sheets were "yessack" (for- 
bidden), and seized it for their own use. A tug-of-war developed 
between me and the Cook for possession of the sheet, and when the 
officer in charge ordered me to surrender it, and showed signs of 
joining in the struggle, I cut it into ribbons to render it valueless to 
our enemies. This was in the early days, before the treasure-hunt 
began. 



258 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

asserted he was in communication with the dead and for some 
time he even published the news he thus obtained. I do 
not know when Hill began, but he also was a keen spiritualist. 
They have both spent a great deal of their time in this pursuit. 
Whether or not this has anything to do with their present 
condition I cannot say. Many other officers did the same and 
I saw no reason to interfere as I considered it a legitimate 
amusement. 

''These two officers also appear to have studied what they 
call 'telepathy' and about two or three months ago they gave 
an exhibition of thought-reading, part of which my Interpreter 
saw and which considerably surprised their fellow-officers. 
Later Hill and Jones asserted they were in communication 
(telepathic) with people in Europe and elsewhere as well as 
with the dead. Early in March, as I reported to you in my 
letter of the i8th March, Jones and Hill were found guilty on 
a charge of attempting to communicate with some person in 
Yozgad whose name they refused to give, and as I reported, 
I confined them in a separate house and forbade any inter- 
course with the rest of the camp. I allowed them to have 
their food sent in from Major Baylay's house, which is near. 

"While in confinement these two officers appear to have 
got the idea that their comrades in the camp disliked them, 
and this idea developed into delusion and terror that they 
were going to be murdered. Their condition became so grave 
that I called in the two medical officers, who had no hesitation, 
after examining them, in recommending their despatch to 
Constantinople. 

"Meantime, until their departure, by the advice of Major 
Osman and Captain Suhbi Mahri, I have posted a special guard 
over the patients to prevent them from doing themselves or 
others any harm. 

"With regard to the journey, as reported in my telegram 
I beg leave to send them imder charge of my Interpreter with 
a sufficient escort, as the sufferers are accustomed to him and 
he will be able to understand their wants, and especially be- 
cause knowing all they have done he may be of assistance 
to the specialists in their enquiry. Until his return I would 
like the services of the Changri Interpreter, but if necessary, 
for a short time, I could communicate any orders that may be 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 259 

necessary direct as several British officers here know a little 
.Turkish." 

The report was posted on the isth April. On the 16th the 
Commandant received from Constantinople the following tele- 
gram in answer to the Spook's wire: 

''Number 887. 15th April. Urgent. Very important. 
Answer to your cipher wire No. 77. Under your proposed ar- 
rangement send to the Hospital of Haidar Pasha the two 
English Officers who have to be under observation. Com- 
municate with the Commandant Changri. — Kemal." 

"Hurrah 1" said Moise, when he brought us the news, "the 
Spook has controlled Constantinople!" 



CHAPTER XXIII 

IN WHICH THE SPOOK PERSUADES MOISE TO VOLUNTEER FOR 
ACTIVE SERVICE 



I 



■^HE telegram from Kemal Pasha, ordering us to be 
sent to Constantinople, arrived on the i6th April. 
The prisoners from Changri, bringing with them 
the Interpreter who was to take the place of the 
Pimple, reached Yozgad on the 24th. Hill and I left for 
Angora on the 26th. 

The Spook explained that though we would probably read 
AAA's thoughts and discover the position of the third clue 
as soon as we got to Constantinople, it was essential for our 
safety that the Constantinople specialists should, for a time, 
think us slightly deranged and in need of a course of treat- 
ment. Therefore it behooved Moi'se to endeavour to bring this 
about by reporting to the Constantinople authorities the things 
which the Spook would tell him to report, and learning his 
lesson carefully. 

"What will happen to the mediums," the Pimple asked, "if 
the specialists do not think them slightly deranged?" 

"Jail, mon petit chert chou!'* said the Spook. "Jail for 
malingering, and they will not return to Yozgad to continue 
our experim_ents. You must play your part." 

The Pimple's part, the Spook Explained, was to observe 
and note carefully everything the mediums said and did. At 
the request of the Spook, as soon as the Yozgad doctors had 
declared us mad, the Commandant publicly ordered Moise to 
make notes of our behaviour, for the benefit of the doctors at 
the Haidar Pasha hospital. The Spook declared that from 
now on the mediums would be kept "under control" so as to 
appear mad, for control being a species of hypnotism the 
oftener we were placed in that condition the easier it would 
be for the Spook to impose its will on us in Constantinople to 

260 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 261 

deceive the specialists. Thus, while the Turks thought the 
Spook was practising on us, making us appear mad, we were 
really practising our madness on the Turks. Doc, OTarrell 
visited us every day. The Turks thought he too was "under 
control" and that he was puzzled by our symptoms. In point 
of fact he was coaching us very carefully in what things were 
fit and proper for a "melancholic" and "a. furious" to do and 
say, for we had decided to adhere to the two distinct types 
of madness diagnosed by the Yozgad doctors. What he se- 
cretly taught us each morning, the Spook made us do "under 
control" each evening, when it was duly noted down by the 
Pimple. These notes were revised and corrected by the Spook 
at regular intervals. In this way we piled up a goodly store 
of evidence as to our insanity. 

Every evening, after the rest of the camp had been locked 
up, we held seances, and at every seance the poor Pimple was 
put through his lesson. Over and over again he was made to 
recite to the spook-board what he had to say to the Constan- 
tinople doctors. It made a strange picture: Moise, leaning 
over the piece of tin that was his Delphic oracle, told his 
tale as he M^ould tell it at Haidar Pasha. His face used to 
be lined with anxiety lest he should go wrong and incur the 
wrath of the Unknown. Hill and I, pale and thin with 
starvation, and the strain of our long deception, sat motionless 
(and, as Moi'se thought, unconscious), with our fingers resting 
on the glass and every sense strained to detect the slightest 
error in the Pimple's story or in his tone or manner of telling 
it. And when the mistakes came (as to begin with they did 
with some frequency), the glass would bang out the Spook's 
wrath with every sign of anger and there would follow the 
trembling apologies and stammered emendations of the un- 
happy Interpreter. Hill and I had got beyond the stage of 
wanting to laugh, for we were working now at our last hope. 
It was absolutely essential that the Pimple's story should be 
without flaw. 

In order to minimize the chance of error, the Spook ex- 
pounded to the Pimple every bit of medical lore which Doc. 
O'Farrell had imparted to us, for he was less likely to go 
"wrong if he knew what the doctors were driving at in their 
questions. Indeed, there were only three points on which we 



262 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

kept him in ignorance. These were (i) that there was na 
Spook and we were not "under control" but acting; (ii) that 
O'Farrell was helping us, and (iii) that our object was "ex- 
change" and not "treasure." The Spook warned him that it 
would be much harder to hoodwink the Constantinople doctors 
than it had been to deceive the local men. 

"Entre nous," it said, "O'Farrell and the doctors here know 
nothing about mental diseases. To deceive Major Osman and 
Captain Suhbi Fahri I made the mediums behave in the way 
an ignorant man thinks lunatics behave. But when we are 
up against the Constantinople doctors, and especially the Ger- 
mans, it will be a different business. You will be surprised, 
mon vieux. My method will be to make the mediums appear 
quite sane to the lay eye, but they will have little lapses and 
little mannerisms which the specialists will note." The Spook 
"controlled" us in turn to show Moi'se what he meant by 
"mannerisms." It first made Hill sit with a vacant stare of 
his face, twiddling his thumbs and pleating and unpleating the 
edge of his coat. Then it threw me into a trance where I 
picked imaginary threads and hairs off my own clothes or the 
clothes of the person I happened to be talking to, and twisted 
a button ceaselessly between finger and thumb. 

"All that," the Spook explained to Moi'se, "appears quite 
sane to you. You will not recognize it in a sign of madness, 
nor should you put it down in your notes, but a doctor who 
knows his job will remark it at once. If he asks you, 'Have 
you noticed that before?' be sure to say, 'Oh yes, he is always 
doing that ! ' in a tone as if you did not know what was behind 
the question, or that such action had any significance." 

Again, as to the manner of telling his story, the Spook was 
very emphatic. "I want you to tell your story in such a waj'' 
that you will appear not to know what is important. You 
might begin by saying you do not know what the doctors want 
to know about. Let them question you, as far as possible. 
Don't recite it like a set piece, but get them interested. Speak 
so as to entice questions. Now, one word of explanation and 
warning: you will find that the mediums will deny a great 
many things you say they have done. That will be under- 
stood by the doctors as a madman's cunning, and at the same 
time it will prove that you and the Commandant are not in 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 265 

league with the mediums. So do not be alarmed by their 
denials." 

One thing worried Moise greatly, and at length he ventured 
to ask the board, "Won't they think it funny that two officers 
go mad at the same time?" 

"Yes," said the Spook, "they will. If you say they 'went 
mad at the same time' it will spoil everything. I have never 
said they went mad at the same time." 

"That is true. Sir," Moise agreed, "but what am I to think?" 

"They were discovered to be mad at the same time by the 
Yozgad doctors, but the important point is that for the last 
two years they have been gradually going mad quite separately 
and independently. It was the fact of their being regarded 
as peculiar by the other officers that threw them together, com- 
bined with their common interest in spiritualism and telepathy. 
What you should say is that, looking back, in the light of what 
you have since learned from the doctors, it is your belief that 
the mediums have always been mad ever since you knew them, 
and you cannot account for their peculiarities in any other 
way. Recently their madness became more pronounced, which 
caused the Commandant to call in medical advice. This is 
why their past history is so important. Do you see?" 

"Yes, Sir," said Moi'se meekly. 

When at last by dint of ceaseless tuition Moi'se had thor- 
oughly grasped the situation, and the nature of the story he 
was to tell, the Spook held an examination and asked every 
conceivable question we and O'Farrell thought the Constan- 
tinople doctors might set. Moise passed the test with great 
credit; and we felt we were ready for the road. 

In addition to teaching the Pimple, the Spook had a good 
deal of "cleaning up" to do. We wanted to leave our com- 
rades as comfortably off as possible. Many officers had been 
complaining of the non-arrival of remittances from England, 
and we suspected that a good deal of the missing money had 
stuck to the palms of the Commandant on the way between 
Post Office and camp. By sheer good luck the Commandant 
asked the Spook whom he should send to the Post Office for 
the money whilst Moise had gone. He complained that he 
could not trust any of the other officials to bring it to him. 
The Spook advised him to send a British officer from the camp, 



264 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

along with any one of the Turkish officials. Whether or not 
this was done after our departure we do not know. 

The camp was crowded, and would be still more crowded 
when the Changri men arrived. We had long since decided 
to get more house-room for our comrades. Across the road 
were two small houses which we had planned to add to the 
camp. The fact that one of them was inhabited by the witch 
who read the cards for Kiazim in hours of stress merely made 
us additionally keen. For we objected to rivals. The Spook, 
therefore, turned her out of the house just before the Changri 
people arrived and Hill and I went into it. The second house 
was already empty. The Commandant agreed to hand over 
these two houses to the camp after we were gone, but Colonel 
Maule, being ignorant of our plans, nearly spoiled everything 
by arranging for the disposal of the Changri prisoners in the 
accommodation already at his command. Kiazim at once con- 
verted the second house into a guard-room for the sentries, 
and it took a good deal of diplomacy to make him promise to 
hand over the one we were in to our fellow-prisoners. How- 
ever, we managed it. 

We felt something ought to be done to Kiazim as a punish- 
ment for his cowardice over the affair of X. The Spook there- 
fore informed him that the time had come for him to go "on 
diet," and although we did not reduce his food to our own 
starvation rations, we gave him a pretty thin time. Whether 
on account of this, or for some other reason, Kiazim had a 
recurrence of his biliary colic. He asked the Spook for a 
remedy — indeed, he suspected the Spook of bringing on the 
attack! In reply the Spook offered to call up the shade of 
Lord Lister for a consultation. The Commandant was so 
delighted with Lister's advice, that we felt much tempted to 
make the Spook demand a hundred guinea fee. 

The Commandant's wife had been boasting round Yozgad 
of a coming access of wealth, and this in spite of a previous 
warning by the Spook. Kiazim was therefore made to give 
her a thoroughly good scolding, and forbidden to speak to her 
for a fortnight. 

Then there was the Cook. Orders had come from Constan- 
tinople to demobilize men of 50 years and over. The Cook 
fell within that class, but the Commandant was unwilling ta 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 265 

"demob." him without the permission of the Spook. After 
some delay the Spook graciously granted permission to Kiazim 
to free the Cook from all military duties, but insisted that he 
should continue to attend to the domestic wants of the 
mediums. For this both the Cook and the Commandant 
thanked the Spook, while Hill and I listened with grave 
faces. 

A matter which rankled a little was that the Commandant 
was still in possession of the two Turkish gold liras, which we 
had dug up with the clues. The Spook accordingly ordered a 
hacksaw and a small vice. These were borrowed by the Turks 
from a goldsmith in the town. The Spook then made Hill 
cut each coin into three equal parts, and gave Hill and myself 
the parts of the coins bearing the dates, while the Cook and 
Pimple each got a section, and the remaining two portions 
went to the Commandant, one for himself and one for his 
wife. "These portions," said the Spook, "bind you all to- 
gether in my brotherhood, to be faithful and true to my be- 
hests. That is one function. The other function is to de- 
ceive AAA; for these are the exact duplicates of the original 
tokens. You must wear these tokens as the originals were 
worn — round your necks. I prefer not to explain yet how 
they will be used to deceive AAA, because that is still a long 
way off, biit you must always wear the tokens to be ready." 

The Turks readily obeyed, and so far as I know they are 
still wearing their tokens. They did not realize our object. 
It was to render comparatively useless the only thing of value 
the Spook had "discovered," and at the same time to provide 
us with an additional proof of Kiazim's confederacy with us. 
Should the occasion arise for us to denounce him it would 
cause him some trouble to explain how we all came to be 
wearing portions of the same coin if we were not in some sort 
of league together. 

The Pimple was justly unpopular with the camp. Every- 
body knew he took toll of our parcels before they were de- 
livered to us, and in addition to his thieving he had an ob- 
jectionable habit of coming round the recipients of parcels 
after delivery, and begging here some tea and there some choco- 
late, and so on. It was unwise to refuse, because if you did 
he would see to it that the next package of books that arrived 



266 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

would be sent back to Constantinople for re-censoring, and 
books were very precious to us prisoners. Had he chosen he 
could have done much to render our imprisonment less irk- 
some, but he knew he was top dog for the time being, and 
took advantage of his position. 

The Spook therefore set about permanently ridding the 
camp of their pet aversion, and it did so by fanning the flame 
of ambition that was consuming the poor fool. "You are 
wasting time in Yozgad," it said; "nothing comes to him who 
does not ask. You are clever! Strike out for your better- 
ment. Throw modesty to the winds." (Heaven knows he 
had little to spare!) ''You are a good lad. Make other 
people realize it. Do not stagnate in Yozgad while great 
careers are being made elsewhere. Why don't you try to get 
to the heart of things?" (Moise pleaded the cost of living 
at Constantinople, and the Spook went on) : "A crust of bread 
where there are big men to watch you earn it is better than 
rich meats in a wilderness. I am taking you to Constantinople. 
I have arranged for a man in your place here. Mind you stay 
there." 

Moi'se thanked the Spook warmly for its advice and begged 
for instructions as to how he could stay at the capital. He 
was ordered on arrival at Constantinople to go to the War 
Office, say he knew Turkey was being hard pressed by its 
enemies and demand to be sent to the fighting line. This, the 
Spook assured him, would obtain him his commission. The 
unhappy Pimple was horror-struck at the idea of having to 
fight, but the Spook promised that he would be quite safe, and 
as soon as he got to Constantinople the little ass did as we 
desired. The Turkish War Office was so astonished at ob- 
taining a volunteer at this stage in the war that they gave 
him a commission straight off, granted him a month's leave to 
wind up his affairs and then clapped him into the officers' 
training school, where he was fed on skilly and drilled for 
eight hours a day. He utilized his first afternoon off duty to 
come to me in the mad ward of Haidar Pasha hospital, where 
he literally wept out his sufferings into my unsympathetic 
ear and implored the Spook to get him better treatment. The 
Spook reminded him he had offered to share the starvation of 
the mediums and informed him that he was now "doing his 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 267 

bit," and it is fair to the Pimple to record that when he heard 
the verdict he dried his tears, held his head high, and an- 
nounced that he was proud to do his duty by our great cause; 
henceforward, he said, he would endure the torments of bad 
food, bad lodging and hard physical exercise without a moan. 
He never complained again, but he sometimes referred with 
regret to the luxuries of his old post at Yozgad, — and we felt 
the camp was avenged. 

One other thing we did for the camp. On the 24th the 
Changri prisoners arrived. We knew from the Turks that the 
reason for their coming to Yozgad was their refusal to give 
parole not to escape. Several of them — Le Patourel, Lowndes, 
Anderson, Johnstone, and Cochrane (of "450 Miles to Free- 
dom" fame) came to see us and told us that practically the 
whole party intended to escape. We were invited to join 
but our transport was already ordered by the Spook and it 
was too late to alter our plans had we wished it. Then we 
learned from the Pimple that the Changri Commandant (who 
accompanied the new prisoners to Yozgad) had warned Kiazim 
that they were a set of desperate characters who were undoubt- 
edly planning to escape. Kiazim had therefore made up his 
inind to lock up the camp again under the conditions which 
had prevailed when we first arrived at Yozgad; but before do- 
ing so he wished to consult the Spook. Would we grant him 
one last seance before leaving Yozgad? 

We did. Our last seance in Yozgad was held on the night 
of the 24th April, 191 8, and almost the last question with which 
the Spook dealt (I quote the record) was: 

"The Commandant presents his compliments to the Control 
and wishes to know if any of the Changri prisoners have the 
idea of escaping." 

"Certainly," was the reply. "Every man would escape if 
he thought it possible, but Yozgad is as nearly impossible 
as any place can be, and Ihey are not fools. Their opinion 
is that escape is too difficult to justify them in bringing the 
rest into trouble." 

The Spook went on to point out that the more hours out 
of every twenty-four the camp was on parole the less time 
would there be for escape; for this reason alone it was ad- 
visable to grant as many extra liberties as possible to those 



268 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

who were willing to give parole not to escape while actually 
enjoying these extra liberties. The Commandant might be 
perfectly confident that every such parole would be kept. 
But if close confinement were again imposed there would cer- 
tainly be escapes. 

"Let the Sup. tell them they are welcome to try to escape 
except when on 'extra liberties,' but they have been warned 
of what will happen to the rest. I do not say nobody will try, 
but it is most unlikely, especially if they are kept contented." 

Just before we left Yozgad we learned (from Le Patourel, 
if I remember right) that the escape was planned for early 
June — six weeks ahead. The Spook immediately sent word 
to the Commandant that it guaranteed there would be no 
escape or attempt to escape for at least three months from the 
date of our departure from Yozgad. This gave the Changri 
men a free hand until the 26th July, by which date we felt 
sure they would have made the attempt.'- 

It is of course impossible to say what would have happened 
had Kiazim been left to his own resources. This much is 
certain: on the morning of the 24th April he intended to keep 
the whole camp, and especially the Changri men, in very strict 
confinement. On the morning of the 25th April, the day 
after the seance, when he called to bid us farewell, and brought 
us a basket of sweet biscuits for the journey, made by his 
wife's own hands, he told us he would follow the Spook's 
advice and keep the prisoners as contented as possible. I 

* In point of fact, they did not get away until the night of Au- 
gust 7th-8th, and at the end of July, when the Spook's guarantee 
expired, the plotters got a bad fright. The authors of "450 Miles 
to Freedom" say: "Unfortunately the Turks also appeared to have 
got wind of it {i.e., the intention to escape). For the last week 
of July, sentries were visited and awakened with unheard-of fre- 
quency. Even the Commandant himself occasionally visited the 
different houses after dark. In the case of one house an extra 
sentry was suddenly posted in the garden." The intention to es- 
cape was really known to the Turks from the moment the Changri 
men arrived at Yozgad. Moise informed me at Constantinople that 
the tunnel at Changri had been discovered and reported after our 
departure from Yozgad. I believe the sudden activity which 
alarmed our friends in July was due to the expiry of our guarantee. 
Hill and I apologise for not making the period four months — ^we 
did our best! 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 269 

learn from the book I have just quoted that he kept his promise, 
and after we left Yozgad the camp was better off in the matter 
of facilities for exercise than it had ever been in our time. 
Two days a week there was hunting, once a week a picnic to 
the pine-woods, and, on the remaining four days, walks; also 
access to the bazaar was easier to obtain. We can justly claim 
that the "Black Sheep" of Yozgad brought no harm to the 
rest of the flock. 




CHAPTER XXIV 

OF OUR MAD JOURNEY TO MARDEEN 

, VER since Major Osman and Captain Suhbi Fahri had 
certified us insane we had feigned madness whenever 
any Turk was near, and in the presence of some of 
the visitors from the camp. We had found no great 
difficulty in maintaining our roles as occasion arose, and in- 
deed it was rather amusing to be able to heave a brazier of 
charcoal at a sentry, or try to steal his rifle, without fear of 
punishment. For the strain of acting was only temporary. 
We contrived to give the special sentry who was detailed to 
prevent us doing harm to ourselves or others such a very hot 
time that he preferred to do his tour of duty outside our room. 
So for most of the hours of the twenty-four we were alone, 
and could be rational. But we realized that from the mo- 
ment we left our sanctuary and started on our journey to Con- 
stantinople, our simulation must be kept up night and day. 
As soon as we reached Haidar Pasha our escort would probably 
be questioned about our behaviour en route, and it was well 
they should corroborate the Pimple's report of our actions. 
We agreed there must be no half measures. Alone or together, 
in sickness or health, to friend and foe, at all times and under 
all circumstances we must appear mad. O'Farrell warned us 
that the strain would be terrible, but not even he, doctor as 
he was, guessed half what it really meant. Nothing but the 
hope of liberty justified the attempt, and there were times in 
Constantinople when we doubted if liberty itself (which in 
those days was our idea of Heaven) was worth it. Pretend to 
be what you are not and the desire to be what you are grows 
in intensity until it becomes an agony of the mind. Your very 
soul cries out to you to be natural, to be your own "self" if 
only for five minutes. Then comes a stage of fear when you 

270 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 271 

wonder if you are not what you seem — if you can ever be your- 
self again — if this creature that weeps mournfully when it 
should be gay, or gabbles wildly about its own grandeur, is 
not the real Hill, the real Jones. You believe you are all right, 
but you want to try so as to be sure — and yet trial is impos- 
sible; it would spoil everything. For a brief period in Haidar 
Pasha hospital a former patient came back and wanted the 
bed Hill happened to be in, so Hill was put in the bed next 
mine. It seems a little thing, that we should lie there three 
feet apart instead of ten, but it meant much. That was, for 
us, the easiest period of our long misery. We did not attempt 
to talk — ^we were too closely watched for that — but at night, 
under cover of darkness, sometimes he and sometimes I would 
stretch out an arm, and for a brief moment grip the other's 
hand. The firm strong pressure of my comrade's fingers used 
to put everything right. It was the one sane action in our 
insane day. 

A merciful Providence has decreed that the present must 
suffice, and the future shall be hidden from man; so though 
at Yozgad we guessed a little of the horror to come, it did not 
unduly oppress us. When at 10 a. m. on April 26th, the two 
best carts and the four best horses in the Changri transport 
were brought to our door, we made merry with Moi'se about 
this theft from the Afion party. Then we went out into the 
street. In a mad sort of way I superintended the loading ol 
our belongings on to the carts, getting into everybody's way 
and flustering still further the already flustered Turks. {Why- 
do Orientals always seem to lose their heads when starting on 
a journey?) Hill stood by, perfectly heedless of the tumult 
that was going on round him, reading his Bible and looking 
miserable. Behind the barred and latticed windows of the 
Colonels' House we could hear the Changri prisoners chuckling 
at our antics, and a voice hailed us from Posh Castle. We 
did not look up — our farewells had already been said. By way 
of giving our escort an example of how to humour us, Kiazim 
Bey came to the door of his office and told us in Turkish that 
he was our very good friend, that he was sending us to Con- 
stantinople for a holiday, and that the soldiers who accom- 
panied us were there to guard us against the enmity of Baylay 
and oiu: other English foes. (All this, of course, by order of 



2^2 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

the Spook.) I bade him a florid and affectionate farewell and 
mounted the cart. Hill went on reading the Bible and had to 
be pushed up beside me. The driver struck the horses with his 
whip. I cheered, and my imitative mania asserting itself, I 
struck the driver with my fly-flap. This caused a delay. The 
driver pulled up, expostulating in angry Turkish, and my fly- 
flap was taken away from me by Mulazim Hassan, who had 
turned up to see the last of us. By this time there was a big- 
gish crowd in the street. We started again. I hugged the 
driver, got up another cheer, and began distributing bank-notes 
among the onlookers. Moi'se who had been warned by the 
Spook what to do if I was controlled into wasting my money, 
jumped off his cart and collected them back again. He had 
hard work explaining to the ragged mob that I was mad and 
they must not keep the money, but his fear of the wrath of 
the Spook if he failed lent a new boldness to his speech and 
authority to his manner. Still, it was not difficult to see he was 
far from happy when forcing them to disgorge, and that his 
nervousness increased proportionately with the size and burli- 
ness of his victim.^ 

Thus, in the two best carts obtainable, with Moise and two 
selected gamekeepers in charge of us, and the blessings of the 
Commandant on our heads, we started forth to face the world 
as lunatics, and to read the thoughts of the holder of the third 
clue in Constantinople. It was good fun, getting out into the 
open after nearly two years of dismal prison life, and I was not 
a little sorry for Hill. As a religious melancholic he must do 
nothing but weep or pray or read his Bible, while his heart, 
if it was anything like mine, was thumping with joy at being 
quit of Yozgad and moving westwards towards Europe, Eng- 
land, and Liberty! The time was to come when, with hope 
near dead within me and the stress of an enforced cheerful 
idiocy weighing me down, I would long to change places with 
Hill so that I might pray a little, aye — and weep too! But 

*The performance was so amusing that I repeated it at every 
possible opportunity on our 120-mile road journey to Angora, and 
the poor Pimple was in and out of his cart like a Jack-in-the-box. 
To his credit be it said that he succeeded in getting back most of 
the notes I distributed so lavishly, and he was perfectly honest in 
returning them to us in Constantinople. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 273 

for this one day I was in luck. The Turks put down my hap- 
piness to the fact that I was leaving behind the English who 
were so intent on murdering me, and going to Stamboul to see 
the Sultan, and Env^r Pasha, and become a great man in the 
Turkish Government. So it was quite in keeping with my type 
of insanity to be light-hearted, and to let off my high spirits 
in any old act of lunacy that came up my back; to set the 
carts racing against one another, to howl Turkish songs in 
imitation of the drivers, to shout mad greetings and make faces 
and throw money (to the annoyance of the Pimple) at the 
amazed passers-by. And from my own private point of view 
there was some excuse for high spirits — were we not the first 
two to get out of Yozgad on our own initiative, and were we 
not being taken on a personally conducted tour at the expense 
of the Turkish Government, which, if all went well, would end 
in old England? So I laughed, and shouted, and sang, and 
was exceeding cheerful, to the great joy of the escort and the 
drivers, who much preferred this phase of my lunacy to my 
''dangerous" moods. All the time Hill sat mournfully huddled 
up, as became a melancholic, but once, when he glanced at me 
I noticed his eyes were sparkling. He told me afterwards it 
must have been a sparkle of anticipation — he was planning his 
first dinner at Home! 

The first three days of our journey were very happy. In 
my role of "cheerful idiot" I rapidly got on good terms with 
Bekir and Sabit, the two sentries, and with the drivers of our 
carts. Beyond insisting on praying before he would do any- 
thing they wanted him to do. Hill gave them no trouble at all. 
So our escort thought they had got a "cushy" job, and a 
paying one, as an occasional five-piastre note, which escaped 
the notice of Moi'se, came their way. They told Moi'se it was 
a shame to send such a couple of innocents to the "Tobtaskay" 
and they'd like to look after us till the end of the war. They 
were soon to change their tune. 

Doc. O'Farrell's hint that a "suicide" would complete the 
downfall of the Constantinople doctors had not been lost upon 
us. We had decided to hang ourselves on the way to An- 
gora, and to arrange to be rescued by the Pimple in the nick 
of time. We told the Doc. of our intention. "If ye do it," 
he said with enthusiasm, "there's not a doctor in Christendom, 



274 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

let alone Turkey, will believe you're sanel" Then caution 
supervened, and he tried to dissuade us. He told us uncom- 
fortable details about the anatomy of the neck and the spinal 
column. He said that theoretically the idea was sound, but 
practically it was impossible, because it was too dangerous. 
A fraction of a minute might make all the difference and 
convert our sham suicide into the genuine article. "One of ye 
do it," he suggested, "then the other can be at hand to cut 
him down if the Turks don't come." We objected that, be- 
sides being suspicious, this would give one of us an unfair 
advantage over the other in the eyes of the specialists, and we 
were determined to do the thing thoroughly and share all risks 
equally. The Doc. made one last despairing effort. 

"Suppose you pull it off and deceive the Turks into think- 
ing it was a genuine attempt," he said, "what do you think 
will happen?" 

"We'll be sent home — ^to England." 

"Aye — ^you'll be sent home all right. An' what do you think 
your address will be?" He leant forward and tapped my 
shoulder impressively with a crooked forefinger. "Until I get 
back to let you out it's Colney Hatch you'll be in, and divil 
a glimpse will ye get of Piccadilly or the French Front or 
whatever it is ye're hankering after. Remember, I can't write 
and explain — the Turks would hang me if I tried." 

"Once we are in England we can explain matters ourselves," 
I laughed. 

"An' who will believe you, with your spooks and your 
buried treasure and all the rest of it? I tell you, you can 
explain till you're blue in the face, but it is mad they'll label 
you, and mad you will remain till I get back!" 

We said we'd risk that, and Doc. gave up argument and 
threw himself enthusiastically into the task of helping us to 
deceive his professional brethren, showing us how to fix the 
knot with the least danger to ourselves, and telling us how to 
behave when we came to (if we ever came to), and what to 
say when we were questioned about the hanging. Matthews 
got us some suitable rope. We used it, for the time being, 
to tie up our roll of bedding, and very innocent it looked as we 
rode along towards Angora. Thus openly did the Pied Piper 
carry his flute. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 275 

". . . Smiling the while a little smile. 
As if he knew what magic slept 
Within his quiet pipe the while." 

Our rope would open for us a path through the mountains 
of captivity, and we too had our Mayor and Corporation — 
Kiazim and our escort — to leave gaping behind. 

On the second day out from Yozgad the Spook began to 
prepare Moise for the "suicide." It was, of course, out of the 
question to use the spook-board, or to hold regular seances, 
because privacy was impossible, and we did not wish the sen- 
tries to see Moise in his role of ''sitter," lest they report the 
fact to the Constantinople authorities. The Spook had there- 
fore announced at one of our last seances in Yozgad that we 
were now so well in tune, and so amenable to "control" that 
the use of the board could be dispensed with (though we were 
to take it with us), and after leaving Yozgad messages would 
be delivered through either Hill or myself, as Moise desired. 
Moi'se suggested that the messages should be delivered through 
me, and asked for some sign by which he might know "whether 
it is Jones himself who is talking or whether it is the Control 
speaking through his voice." The Spook said that the sign 
of my being under control would be that I would start twist- 
ing my coat-button. Whatever was said while I twisted the 
button emanated from the Spook, and not from myself, and 
neither Hill nor I would be conscious of it or remember any- 
thing about it. The Pimple was overjoyed at this advance to 
more speedy means of communication; for the glass and board 
method had been painfully slow, a seance taking anything up 
to six hours. The great merit of the Ouija or of table-rapping, 
from the mediums' point of view, lies in this very fact of slow- 
ness, for spelling out an answer letter by letter gives us psychics 
plenty of time to think. When an inconvenient question is 
asked, an unintelligible reply can easily be given, and while 
the sitter is trying to puzzle out what it means the mediums 
can consider what the final reply is to be. But when the Spook 
us^ the medium's voice question and answer follow one an- 
other with the rapidity of ordinary conversation, and there is 
less opportunity for deliberation. Because of this danger we 
had never trusted ourselves to use the "direct speech" method 



276 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

in Yozgad.^ But on the road to Constantinople we used it 
freely, for we knew exactly what we wanted, and were quite 
sure of our man. 

Early in the morning on the second day, the drivers asked 
us tjO lighten the load by walking. The Pimple, Hill, myself 
and the two sentries took a short cut up the hillside, while the 
carts followed the winding road. The Pimple began giving 
us a lesson in French, for the Spook had told him to teach 
us some French words and a few simple phrases in order to 
enable us to ask for things in hospital. Ever since Constanti- 
nople had been fixed upon as our destination Moise had spent 
an hour a day in giving us a French or Turkish lesson. He 
was an excellent teacher, but he found us rather slow pupils. 

''Your Turkish," he said to me as we walked together up 
the hill, "is much better than your French. Now — say the 
present tense — je suis." 

"Je suis, tu as, il a— — " 

"No, no, no," said the Pimple, "you mix with avoir! Per- 
haps I have tried to make you go too fast. Do you remember 
the numerals?" 

I got as far as "douze" and stuck. 

"You, Hill?" 

Hill struggled on to twenty in an atrocious accent. 

"You should have learned all this at school," said the Pimple 
reprovingly; "you British are always deficient in foreign lan- 
guages, but even so most of you know the French rudiments." 

"I was trained for India," I said apologetically. "Eastern 
languages, you know. Perhaps that is why I find Turkish 
easier." 

"You are lazy and forgetful, both in French and Turkish." 
He began to lecture us for forgetting our lesson of the day 

before. "Try je suis again and see if you can " Suddenly 

his voice broke. 

"Sir," he said, excitedly, fixing his eyes on my fingers. I 
was twisting my coat-button. 

* From the point of view of the professional medium the slower 
methods have another advantage. Very little ground is covered at 
a single table-rapping seance, and at the end of the allotted hour the 
sitter has usually a number of questions he still wishes to put. So 
he is likely to come back for a second guinea's worth. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 277 

The Spook began to speak through me, and Moise was at 
once all ears. The change in his attitude was extraordinary. 
A moment before he had been a hectoring schoolmaster abus- 
ing his pupils, a Turkish conqueror in charge of his two prison- 
ers, secure in his superior knowledge and in his official posi- 
tion. Now he was the disciple, humble, deprecating, almost 
cringing. 

The Spook reminded him that both Hill and I were now in 
a trance and knew nothing of what was being said. Moise 
was to keep it secret, lest we got frightened. For in order to 
justify, in the eyes of the authorities, the diagnosis and fears 
of the Yozgad doctors, we were to be controlled into hanging 
ourselves. 

"Oh mon Dieu!'* said the Pimple. He was genuinely 
shocked. 

"Tais-toi!" said the Spook angrily. "II ne jaut jamais dire 
ce mot la'." It began abusing him in French for his careless- 
ness. The Pimple made a most abject apology in the same 
language, which the Spook was graciously pleased to accept. 
It then went on in English to describe the Pimple's part in the 
coming suicide, and to impress upon him the importance of 
carrying out his orders exactly, for on that alone the lives of 
the mediums would depend. 

The hanging, the Spook explained, would take place at night, 
at Mardeen, which was a little country town some sixty miles 
from Yozgad. The signal that the hanging had begun would 
be the extinguishing of the candle in the mediums' room. As 
soon as he saw the room was in darkness, Moise was to call 
out and ask why the hght was put out. He would get no 
answer and would enter the room to see what was the matter. 
He would find Hill and Jones hanging by the neck, close to- 
gether, and must at once do his best to lift them up so as 
to take some of their weight off the rope, and shout at the top 
of his voice for assistance, holding them thus till help ar- 
rived and they could be cut down. Any carelessness on his part 
would mean the death of the mediums and loss of the treasure, 
but beyond being careful to carry out his instructions he need 
have no other worries, for the mediums would feel no pain and 
would be quite unconscious of what they were doing. 

The Spook made Moise repeat his instructions, over and 



278 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

over again, until there was no doubt that he knew exactly what 
to do. Then I gave a sigh, let go of the button, and turned 
my eyes, which had been fixed steadily on the horizon, and 
said: 

"All right, I think I can remember it now I Je suis, tu es, 
il est, nous sommes, vous etes, Us ont." 

Moise stared at me open-mouthed. He was a little shaken. 

"Yes," he said, "That's right, except the third plural. But 
do you know you've been in a trance?" 

"Has he?" said Hill. "I never noticed." 

"And in your trance," Moise went on, "you spoke French — 
well, fluently, with argot in it!" 

"You don't say so! What did I say?" 

"You abused me for saying 'mon Dieuf " 

"Nothing else?" 

"No," Moise lied. "Nothing else. But surely that is 
wonderful enough? Oliver Lodge says it is practically un- 
known for mediums to speak in a tongue they don't know. 
You've beaten Lodge." 

"But you've been teaching us French," I expostulated. 

"Pahl" said the Pimple, "you used words you never heard 
in your life!" 

Perhaps! But then, the Pimple did not know as much about 
me as he thought. My training for India had not been en- 
tirely confined to Eastern languages. I have pleasant recol- 
lections of summers spent in a French school and a French 
'Varsity. 




CHAPTER XXV 

HOW WE HANGED OURSELVES 

N the 29th April, 191 8 (an ominous day because it 
was the second anniversary of the fall of Kut-el- 
Amara and of the beginning of my captivity), we 
drove into the little town of Mardeen. Here, on our 
journey to Yozgad twenty-two months ago, we had rested for a 
day. We were then travel-worn, footsore and starved. The 
memories of the awful desert march, the studiously callous 
neglect with which the Turks had treated us on the way, the 
misery of being herded and driven and clubbed across the 
wastes like so many stolen cattle, and sheer weariness of body 
had nigh broken our spirit. Long afterwards a British officer, 
captured on the Suez front, who saw the Kut prisoners pass 
through Angora, told me, "When we saw your mob being 
driven along I turned to my neighbour and said, 'By God! 
Those fellows have been through it! They're broken men, 
every one of them!' You all looked fit for nothing but hos- 
pital." Our batch were officers, and as such the Turks had 
granted us a little money and a little transport to help us on 
the way. What the men of the garrison suffered no one can 
tell. The desert road from Kut to railhead at Raas-el-ain is 
600 miles. At each furlong-post set a stone to the memory 
of a murdered prisoner, and there will still be corpses to spare! 
That lonely desert track belongs to the Dead Men of Kut. 

My second entry into Mardeen was happier than the first. 
We were travelling in comfort. The twisting of a coat-button 
made us in fact what that courteous liar Enver Pasha had 
glibly promised we should be — "the honoured guests of Tur- 
key." The Spook could get us all the comforts we wanted, and 
though we still denied ourselves proper food the starvation was 
nothing, for it was a self-imposed means to an end. In place 
of a hopeless captivity there lay ahead of us the hope of early 

279 



28o THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

freedom. So we bumped joyfully over the cobbled streets and 
drew up in the market square. We noticed with interest the 
effects of the pressure of the British Navy. Two years ago the 
shops had still been full of European goods. Now most of 
them were shut, and those which remained open were empty 
of everything but local produce. A restaurant where I had got 
a good meal for five piastres was now charging forty piastres 
for a single dish of poor food. Everywhere prices were fabu- 
lously high. Last winter, we learned, the town had been swept 
by typhus. Most of the townsfolk were in rags; at all of 
which we could have rejoiced had it not been for the starving 
children. Hill nudged me and silently indicated a little group 
of them, pallid with hunger, grubbing amongst some refuse in 
the hope of finding food the dogs had overlooked. The Spook 
got to work with five-piastre notes, and my Turkish being al- 
ready good enough to enable me to tell each recipient to run 
like smoke, the Pimple had a desperate ten minutes. He re- 
turned from his last chase puffing and blowing, and bundled 
me back into the cart. He was very frightened, for he had re- 
trieved very few of the notes. 

We went on to one of the three caravan-serais of which the 
town boasted. These Turkish serais are built on a regular 
model. A big gateway leads into an open courtyard surrounded 
on all four sides by buildings. These are usually two-storeyed. 
The lower storey consists of stables for the horses, the upper 
of rooms for the men. Round the upper storey runs a fairly 
broad veranda, which overlooks the courtyard and gives access 
to the rooms. The veranda is reached by a staircase leading 
up from the courtyard. Somewhere in the building there i? 
usually a coffee-stall, kept by the caretaker, where light re- 
freshment can be obtained. 

As we entered the courtyard the caretaker bustled forward 
with his bunch of great keys. He opened room after room 
for our inspection. They were all stone-floored, low-ceilinged 
and devoid of all furniture. This would not have mattered 
to us. The important point was that nowhere could we see 
a place to tie a rope above five feet from the floor. The build- 
ing seemed to have been specially designed to prevent suicide 
by hanging. 

Hill was mooning along with us, reading his Bible as he 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 281 

went and pretending to take no interest in the proceedings, but 
I knew that the mournful look he bestowed on each 'room as 
we entered had taken in every detail. I glanced at him and he 
gave the tiniest shake of the head. I turned on Moise. 

"Is this the accommodation you offer me, ME, a friend of 
the Sultan!" I said in simulated rage, twisting my coat-button 
as I spoke. "This is an insult! Take us where we shall find 
worthy lodging, or you shall suffer!" 

The Pimple translated to the caretaker, and asked if he had 
no better rooms. That worthy closed his eyes, tossed back 
his head, and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 
We knew the gesture well, as does every prisoner of war from 
Turkey. It is the most objectionable, irritating and insulting 
negative in the world. Then he pocketed his keys and^-walked 
away. 

We went down into the courtyard. The drivers had already 
unharnessed. Bekir and Sabit had taken the luggage off the 
carts, and as the Pimple's belongings included 500 lbs. of 
butter which he was taking to Constantinople in the hope of 
selling it at a profit, unloading was no light task. When the 
Pimple told them we had refused to stay there, sentries and 
drivers alike were furious. I added to the hub-bub by danc- 
ing about the yard in a frenzy and ordering them to harness 
up at once. Bekir, his face red with anger, took me roughly 
by the shoulder and growled at me in Turkish. I pushed 
him off, and foaming with rage informed him that he was 
reduced from Lieutenant-Colonel (to which rank I had pro- 
moted him that very morning) to a common "nefer" (private) 
again, and if he didn't load up at once I'd have him shot, I'd 
report him to the Sultan, I'd tell Enver about him and blow 
him from the cannon's mouth. The Pimple translated. It 
was a very pretty little scene, and quite a crowd gathered in 
the gateway. In the end we had our way. The horses were 
harnessed, the carts were loaded, and we bumped over the 
cobbles to another caravanserai. It was no better than the 
first. My wrath reached boiling point: Hill became almost 
grotesquely mournful. The sentries and the drivers were on 
the point of mutiny. I nearly twisted off the coat-button get- 
ting Moise to move them on. We crossed the square to the 
third, last and best caravanserai in Mardeen. The sentries and 



282 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

drivers began unloading as soon as they got into the court- 
yard. Their patience was at an end and it was obvious they 
would humour us no longer. Besides, there was nowhere else 
to go. The hotel-keeper (I dignify him thus, though he was a 
lousy rascal enough, because the place was a little more preten- 
tious than the ordinary serai) told us he had only one room 
unoccupied. Everything looked very hopeless as we watched 
him fumble at the lock. Then he threw open the door. It was 
a narrow room, about fifteen feet long by ten wide, and con- 
tained two beds. In the wall opposite the door was a small 
barred window, too low down to be of any use. I glanced at 
the ceiling. It was high — a good 1 1 feet above ground level — 
and directly overhead, close to the door and about three feet 
apart from one another, were four solid rings, fastened by 
staples to the woodwork, that looked strong enough to hold an 
ox. Our luck had changed. Things could not have been better 
had we ordered them specially. 

I turned to the hotel-keeper: 

"We would prefer a larger room, with ten beds, if you have 
it." 

He said he had no other room. I bowed profoundly and in- 
dicated our willingness to make the best of a bad job. Hill 
was already sitting on the floor reading the Bible. 

Bekir and Sabit brought up the luggage and proceeded to 
make themselves comfortable. An attempt to get them to 
take up their quarters on the veranda failed. My simulated 
rage at the first two hotels had frightened them. They thought 

I was in one of my dangerous moods, and stuck to their 
posts. But there was still plenty of time, as it was not yet 
sunset. 

Opposite the door of our room, on the other side of a small 
narrow passage, was the coffee-shop of the hotel. It was full 
of a motley crowd of drovers and shepherds. At my sugges- 
tion Bekir, Moise and I entered it, leaving Hill at his re- 
ligious duties in the corner and Sabit to watch him. Before 
Moi'se could stop me I had ordered and paid for coffee all 
roimd — it cost a shilling a cup! While this was being drunk 

I I went amongst the drovers and asked confidentially if there 
were any English in the town, and if any of them knew Major 
Baylay. There were no English in Mardeen, and Baylay was 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 283 

utterly unknown. In my joy at the news I ordered ten cups 
of coffee for each guest and threw a pile of bank-notes on the 
counter. Moise grabbed it, explained to the crowd that I 
was mad, and amid much sympathetic murmuring and "Allah- 
AUah-ing" from the drovers I was hustled back into my own 
room. In preparation for what was coming later, the hotel 
habitues had been given a hint of our mental state, and I had 
seen what we wanted in the coffee-room — a small table, by 
standing on which we could reach the rings. As an excuse for 
getting it brought in we ordered a meal. 

The next problem was to get rid of the sentries. While 
Moise was out of the room ordering our dinner, Hill (pretend- 
ing to be reading his Bible aloud) suggested that after the 
meal I should invite the sentries and Moise to step across the 
passageway and have a cup of coffee with me. They would 
probably accept the invitation because they regarded Hill as 
harmless. While they were away Hill would fix the ropes to 
the rings. I would excuse myself for a moment and return to 
the room, the door of which they could see from the coffee- 
room. We would jam the table against the door, stand on it, 
get the nooses round our necks, blow out the light and swing 
off. I agreed. 

Moise came back with the table and the food. We all had 
dinner (Bekir and Sabit were fed at our expense as a mark of 
their return into favour). Under pretence of doing something 
to the luggage, Hill tied nooses on our two ropes. The sen- 
tries did not notice what he was doing. Then he began to read 
his Bible again. I invited the party to coffee. All accepted, 
except Hill, who paid no attention. We opened the door: the 
coffee-room was shut. The "cafe-jee" had gone away! Our 
plan had failed. Bekir offered to get a bottle of cognac if we 
would provide the money. I had a momentary idea of making 
the men drunk enough to sleep soundly, but it would be to6 
dangerous. Besides, the Turks would expect us to drink level, 
and we needed clear heads if we were to make no mistakes. 
So we vetoed the cognac and I voted for tea. Sabit went out 
and boiled some water over a fire in the yard. I tried to get 
Bekir to go and see why he was so long about it, but Bekir 
had taken his boots off and couldn't be bothered. Sabit came 
back with the hot water. I had failed again. 



284 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

As we drank the tea I began to make myself as interesting 
as I could, and told tales current among Welsh country folk 
that appealed to the bucolic minds of our escort, I spoke of 
things seen in the East, and especially of crops and harvests 
in distant lands. Moise interpreted. The sentries listened 
intently, for they were small farmers themselves, and asked 
intelligent and endless questions. Thus they forgot their fears 
about us, and ten o'clock arrived. But we were no nearer our 
objective. Sabit began to spread his bedding in his customary 
place — across the door, 

"Before Sabit lies down," I said, "I want to be taken to the 
House of Purification" (the Turkish name for lavatory). I 
signalled secretly to Hill to come with us. Bekir and Sabit 
got their rifles and marched us into the outer darkness. The 
Pimple remained behind. After we had gone a few paces I 
slipped an Indian rupee and a Turkish gold lira into Hill's 
palm, and began singing. This is what I sang — ^ — 

"It's up to you to show them some tricks. 
I'll say it's magic, you get them keen, 
Then offer to show them one still more wonderful 
If they'll stand outside the door while you prepare." 

Hill squeezed my arm to show that he understood, and I 
turned to Sabit and asked for a Turkish song. He complied 
readily enough. By the time we got back to the room we were 
all singing together, except Hill. He went back to his corner 
and his Bible. 

"That last tune of Bekir's reminds me of one I heard from 
a witch doctor in Togoland," ^ I said to the Pimple, "He 
was a great magician and held converse with djinns. Ask 
Bekir if he has ever seen magic." 

Bekir had often heard of magic and djinns, but had never 
seen any. Yes, he would like very much to see some, but 
where? 

I pointed to Hill, huddled up in his corner, and told them 
he knew all the magic of the aborigines of Australia. I'd make 
him show us some, if they wished it. They were delighted at 

* I apologise to the inhabitants of Togoland for comparing their 
music (whatever it may be) to the abominable noises made by our 
sentries. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 285 

the idea. But Hill refused to oblige. He said magic was 
"wicked" and he had given it up. 

"Shall I force him to do it?" I asked. 

Bekir and Sabit nodded. They were very keen already, and 
knew that Hill usually obeyed me — it was a feature in his 
insanity that he gave in to me more readily than to anyone 
else. But tonight he simulated great reluctance. I had to 
threaten to take his Bible away before he would do as he was 
told. Finally he stood up, the picture of mournful despond- 
ency, and slowly rolled up his sleeves. We lit a second candle 
and placed it on the table. We moved the table to the spot 
we wanted it — not directly under the rings but slightly to 
one side, so that we would swing clear when we stepped off. 
Then Hill began. 

It was a very wonderful little performance. He showed his 
empty hand to the sentries, then closed it slowly under their 
noses (his audience was never more than three feet away). 
When he opened it a rupee lay shining in his palm. The sen- 
tries gasped — ^here was a man turning thin air into silver. 
Could he make gold too? Hill took the rupee in his right hand 
and threw it into his left three times. The third time it 
turned into a Turkish gold lira. The sentries, dumb with 
surprise, took it from his palm, examined it closely by the 
candlelight, bit it, rang it on the table. "It is good," said 
Bekir, handing it back. "Make more, many more." Hill 
smiled a little sourly and threw the lira back into his left hand, 
and it turned back into a rupee. Sabit gave a short, very 
nervous bark of a laugh. Bekir was disappointed — ^he wanted 
more gold. With a look of utter boredom on his face Hill 
began extracting gold coins from the air, from under the table, 
from the back of his knee, slipping his harvest into his pocket 
as he garnered it. The sentries gaped in open-mouthed as- 
tonishment. Hill picked up his Bible and made to sit in his 
comer again. 

"More!" said Bekir. "Show us more magic." 

Hill tum^ back. "Would you like to see the table float 
about the room?" he asked. 

They would like it very much. 

"Then step outside the door while I apeak to the djinoar" 

We all rose to go out, I with the itH, 



286 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"You'll be out there about 15 minutes," Hill went on; 
"better take a candle with you. And if you value your lives 
don't come in till I call you. But I want one of you to stay and 
help me." 

I suggested Moise should stay, and in the same breath 
twisted my button and told him to leave me behind. It ended 
by the sentries going out with Mo'ise quite happily. We 
closed the door. It fitted badly, and Mo'ise had but to watch 
the space between the lintel and door to see when our light 
went out. Darkness was to be his signal for breaking in. 

The moment the door closed, Hill handed me my rope, and 
we mounted the small table together. My hands shook so 
from excitement that the ring rattled against the staple with a 
noise like castanets, and I could scarcely control my fingers to 
knot the rope. It was not unlike "stage-fever." 

"Steady," said Hill in a low voice, "they'll hear you." 

He was already standing with the rope round his neck. His 
ring and staple had not made a sound. His voice pulled me 
together, and next moment my task too was done. 

"Ready?" I whispered. 

"I'm O.K.," he replied. 

We shook hands. 

"Take the strain," I said. 

Holding the rope above my head in my right hand, I bent 
my knees till it was taut about my neck. I could not see Hill, 
but knew he was doing the same. We did not want an inch 
of "drop" if we could avoid it. 

The candle was ready in my left hand. I blew it out, and 
we swung off into space. 

To anyone desirous of quitting this mortal coil we can offer 
one piece of sound advice — don't try strangulation. Than 
hanging by the neck nothing more agonising can be imagined. 
In the hope of finding a comfortable way of placing the noose 
we had both experimented before leaving Yozgad, but no 
matter how we placed it we could never bear the pain for more 
than a fraction of a second. When we stepped off our table 
in the dark at Mardeen we simply had to bear it, and though 
we had arranged to grip the rope with one hand so as to take 
as much weight as possible off the neck until we heard Moise 
at the door, the pain was excruciating. Mo'ise did not at once 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR t.'^'j 

notice that our light had gone out, I revolved slowly on the 
end of my rope. My right arm began to give out and the rope 
bit deeper into my throat. My ears were singing. I wondered 
if I was going deaf, if I could hear him try the door in time 
to get my hand away, if he was ever going to open the door 
at all. It was impossible to say how long we hung thus, re- 
volving in the dark. I suppose it was about 90 seconds, but 
it seemed like ten years. 

"Hill, Jones, are you ready?" At last the Pimple had seen 
the signal. 

We instantly let go of our ropes and hung solidly by the 
neck — it was awful. 

"Hill, Jones!" The Pimple was shouting now. We could 
not have answered had we tried. 

The door crashed open. The Pimple saw us, yelled at the 
top of his voice, and kept on yelling. Somebody rushed past 
(I was next the door) bumping against me so that my body 
swung violently, and the rope tightened unbearably roimd my 
throat. Then a pair of strong arms clasped my legs and — oh, 
blessed relief! — lifted me a little. (I found out afterwards it 
was Sabit, the sentry. The Pimple was doing the same for 
Hill.) There was soon pandemonium in the room; in answer 
to the Pimple's cries people came rushing in from all over the 
hotel. The place was in darkness and everybody except Hill 
and myself were shouting as loud as they could, while the 
Pimple's shrieks sounded clear above the din. Then some- 
body took me by the waist and threw all his weight on me. 
Through my closed eyelids I saw a whole firmament of shoot- 
ing stars. I don't quite know what happened after that until 
I found myself on the floor. The same thing was done to Hill. 
I believe it was one of the drovers who did it, but what his 
intention was I never knew. Perhaps he was testing us, to see 
if we would put up our hands, or perhaps he was a good Mo- 
hammedan anxious to finish off two infidel "giaours^ What- 
ever his object may have been, he did not succeed. 

I don't think either Hill or I ever quite lost consciousness, 
but for a time everything was very confused. We have quite 
clear recollections of unnamable tortures being inflicted upon 
us, which we endured without sign as best might be. Turkish 
methods of r^uscitation are original a»d barbarous. At last 



288 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

somebody poured a bucketful of extraordinarily cold water over 
me and I half opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was 
Hill. He lay on a bed still feigning unconsciousness, with 
dropped jaw and protruding tongue. The local expert in 
anatomy was practising on him the same abominable treatment 
as I had just undergone. Another gentleman was pouring 
water impartially over Hill and the bed. The hotel-keeper, in 
a vain effort to save his mattresses, was tugging at Hill's head 
so as to bring it over the edge of the bed and let the water fall 
on the floor. Hill opened his eyes and began to cry, as Doc. 
O'Farrell had warned him to do. They continued to pour water 
over us both, until the floor was an inch deep in it. 

Doc's orders to me on "coming to" had been to be as abusive 
and noisy as possible, and to curse everybody for cutting me 
down. It was the only unfortunate bit of advice he ever gave 
us. As soon as I felt up to it. I tried to struggle to my feet, 
shook my fist at the Pimple and added to the general din by 
roaring out, "Terjuman chok jena! Terjuman chok jenaT 
(Interpreter very bad.) 

Bekir, who had a firm grip on my collar, thrust me back to 
a sitting position on the floor and relieved his feelings at 
finding me so much alive by striking me a heavy blow with 
his fist under the ear. I paid no heed to him, though my head 
was singing, and continued to roar, "Terjuman chok jena!" 
at the top of my voice, but Bekir's action was the signal for a 
general assault by everyone within reach. Sabit, from behind, 
drove his rifle-butt into my back, a shepherd in front smote me 
on the head with a coil of rope, and a gentleman in wooden 
clogs on my left kicked me hard in the stomach. The rope 
and the rifle had been just endurable, but "clogs" was the last 
straw. An overwhelming nausea came over me, everything 
swam in a giddy mist, and my voice sank like Bottom the 
weaver's from a good leonine roar of wrath to the cooing of a 
sucking-dove. I have never felt so ill in my life, and it was 
hard to keep at it, even in a whisper. They were going to do 
something more to me, when Moise intervened. I was pro- 
foundly thankful, but went on raving at my rescuer between 
gasps. Bekir and Sabit contented themselves with holding 
me down on the floor. 

Meantime my melancholic companion in crime was weeping 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 289 

and wailing on the bed. He was a most distressful figure, with 
his pale contorted face and streaming eyes and the great red 
wheal round his neck where the rope had been. His shirt was 
torn half off, and everything about him from his hair to his 
socks was as wet as water could make it. Nobody paid the 
least attention to him and he wailed on in solitude. 

The whole population of Mardeen seemed to be in the room 
or in the passage outside trying to get in. Gentlemen with 
swords; gentlemen with daggers; gentlemen with rifles, and 
blunderbusses, and knobkerries; shepherds and drovers with 
long sticks; a shoemaker with a hammer; and a resplendent 
gendarme with a long shining chain. On the table the hotel- 
keeper was standing; he held a torch in one hand and with the 
other exhibited a clasp-knife he had broken in cutting us down. 
Everyone was talking at once. The din was indescribable and 
the smell was beyond words. The Pimple, with fresh marks 
of tears on his cheeks (he had shrieked himself into hysterical 
weeping), waved his arms and explained over and over again 
about Hill's gold trick and how we had fooled them into leaving 
the room. The mention of the gold fired the mob to search us. 
They did it very thoroughly, but found nothing but notes. Hill 
kept the gold out of sight by the aid of his sleight of hand, 
but let them find the rupee. This caused a fresh discussion — • 
the rupee was evidence of the truth of what Moise and the 
sentries had said, and it must be that the gold was magic gold, 
and had disappeared into the thin air whence it came. They 
looked at Hill's weeping figure with something of awe in their 
glances. 

After about half an hour, when Hill and I had begun to 
quieten down, Moise questioned us for the benefit of the crowd 
as the Spook had previously ordered him to do. I admitted 
having attempted suicide, and said I did it because twenty 
English prisoners were chasing us (the Afion party which was 
two days' behind), and Major Baylay was going to kill me. I 
managed to work myself up into a great state of terror. It 
was easy enough to do. I had only to let my body "go," as it 
were, and as a result of our drenching, the extreme cold of 
the night and the rough treatment we had just come through, 
it did all that was necessary for a perfect simulation of fear. 
My teeth chattered and I shook all over as if with ague. The 



290 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

sentries were quite alarmed at the sight, and assured me for 
the hundredth time that no Englishman could come near me. 

Then Hill, questioned in the same way, sobbed out that he 
knew suicide was a very wicked thing, but I had told him to 
do it. Moise told him angrily that he was a fool to take any 
notice of me. Hill turned his face to the wall and went on 
weeping. His acting was wonderful. Next day Moise told us 
the "control" had been marvellous. 

I soon found that "letting myself go" had been a mistake; 
having once begun shivering I could not stop. It was a curious 
sensation: my body had taken command of the situation and 
was running away with me. I had an uneasy feeling that a 
lunatic ought not to feel cold or exhaustion, and I struggled 
hard to pull myself together, talking the while of my terror of 
Englishmen in general and Baylay in particular, in the hope 
that the Turks would ascribe the trembling to fear. They did. 
They showed me their rifles and knives and knobkerries and 
promised to kill off my English foes as they had done in the 
Dardanelles. Gradually my shivering wore itself out, but I 
felt colder than ever. I began joking with the crowd, telling 
what I would do to Baylay when I caught him. I was joking 
in a mist, and their voices were beginning to sound very far 
away. I knew I was on the point of fainting, and I made a 
mistake which might well have been fatal to our plans. I 
twisted my coat-button and said in English to Moise, "Send 
us to bed." It was a foolish, insensate thing to say. Had the 
crowd in the room contained anyone who knew English that 
single sentence was enough to show that Moise was our con- 
federate. The moment the words were out of my mouth I 
realised what I had done, and could have bitten my tongue out. 
By sheer good fortime, nobody understood, but I have never 
forgiven myself. The contrast between my weakness of spirit 
in Mardeen, and Hill's superlative endurance later on in Con- 
stantinople when he kept a close tongue through a month of 
incredible illness and suffering in Gumush Suyu hospital, has 
cured me of any pride in my will-power. But the lesson was 
not entirely lost, and never again was my hatred of physical 
suffering allowed to gain the upper hand. 

Luckily the crowd thought the order to change into dry 
things and go to bed emanated from Moise. Hill helped to 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 291 

save the situation by sobbing out that he didn't want dry 
clothes and preferred to remain as he was and contemplate his 
sins. He had to be forced into his pyjamas. Meantime 
Moise had thrown me a towel and I was drying myself, joking 
with the mob as I did so. We noticed that at this they began 
muttering among themselves. Moise told us later that the 
hotel-keeper said no lunatic would dry himself under the cir- 
cumstances. Moise replied I did it under his orders, which was 
true enough and satisfied everybody except the hotel-keeper, 
who was angry at the disturbance we had caused in his hotel 
and the damage done by the water to his bedding. 

At the time we did not know what the muttering was about, 
but we saw something was wrong and raised a successful di- 
version by quarrelling amongst ourselves. Hill wanted to hold 
a prayer-meeting to ask forgiveness for our suicide, while I 
wanted him to obey the Turks who were protecting us from 
the English, and go to bed. In the end Moise was asked by 
the hotel-keeper to make me shut up, as I was keeping every- 
body in the hotel awake. I obeyed Moise, and so far as Hill 
was concerned he held his prayer-meeting and then turned in. 
I refused to go to bed myself, and plagued Moise to give me 
back the money he had taken from me at the search, in order 
that I might buy a rifle from one of our audience to protect 
myself against Major Baylay and the English. After about 
an hour of fruitless begging and raving on my part the last 
of the onlookers went away. Our cart drivers and two vil- 
lagers were brought in to support Bekir and Sabit in case we 
turned violent again and I was made to lie down. 

My throat was too sore to let me sleep, so I saw that all 
six of our guards remained awake all night, with their weapons 
ready in their hands. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

IN WHICH THE SPOOK CONVICTS MOISE OF THEFT, CONVERTS 
HIM TO HONESTY, AND PROMISES OMNIPOTENCE 

NEXT morning the hotel-keeper came in early to 
survey the damage. His suspicions about our in- 
sanity had been partially set at rest by Moise, who 
had shown him copies of the Yozgad doctors' cer- 
tificates of lunacy, but he still had his doubts and was out to 
get what compensation he could. He produced his broken 
clasp-knife and demanded another in its place. 

"Why should we give you another?" I said, "it has nothing 
to do with us." 

"I broke it in cutting your companion down," he said in- 
dignantly, pointing to Hill. "You'd have been dead by now 
but for this knife." 

I told him he was a liar and denied that we had ever tried 
to hang ourselves. He got furious and said the whole town 
knew we had attempted suicide. I got equally furious and 
denied it. For some minutes we argued together, and he called 
on the sentries to corroborate him, which they did. Then I 
changed my tune, begged him not to say such a thing about 
us or we would be put in gaol, and gave him my knife in place 
of his own. This mollified him a little, but he still stuck to 
his point that we had attempted suicide. I pretended to grow 
desperate, dropped on my knees, and beseeching him to deny 
the hanging for our sakes, I gave the fellow forty liras. He 
took the notes from me and Moi'se (under the Spook's orders) 
took them from him. (He surrendered them to Moise without 
a word, but his face was a picture.) Then I gave him a tin 
of tea and this the Spook allowed him to keep. He could retail 
it at a shilling a cup which would amply compensate him for 
any damage caused to his furnishings. 

To get to the door he had to step over Hill, who was busy 

292 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 293 

pra5dng in the Mussulman fashion; prostrate on the floor, but 
with his boots on and facing towards London instead of Mecca! 
The hotel-keeper shook his head sympathetically, and went 
away fully convinced we were both hopelessly mad. 

Various local officials came in during the morning and ques- 
tioned us. We stoutly denied having hanged ourselves, Moi'se, 
under the Spook's orders, pretended to be alarmed at this and 
drew up an account of the hanging which was signed by a 
number of witnesses. This was to counteract our denial at 
Constantinople should we deny it. The hotel-keeper told 
everybody how we had tried to bribe him into silence, and 
boasted of his honesty in the matter of the forty liras. He 
did not mention the pound of tea. A telegraphic report was 
sent to the Commandant at Yozgad, cmd we learned later that 
Captain Suhbi Fahri and Major Osman were delighted at the 
correctness of their diagnosis. 

About midday we left Mardeen. We had, as an addition to 
our escort, the officer in charge of the Mardeen gendarmerie, 
who rode with us to the next gendarmerie post, twenty miles 
away, and handed us over to the police there. Indeed we were 
handed on from police officer to police officer, all the way to 
railhead, for we were now regarded as dangerous lunatics. 

Proof of our dangerous character was forthcoming at every 
halt, and we were privileged to learn at first hand how Turkey 
deals with its criminals. Every night until we reached the rail- 
way we were put into the strong room of the village where we 
halted, and in addition to our own sentries, our drivers, Moi'se 
and the policemen in charge, a guard of from six to a dozen 
villagers was mounted over us. Another attempt on my part 
to buy a weapon from one of our guards led to us being 
searched again. Hill allowed them to find about twenty liras 
more, which Moise took in charge. They were then satisfied 
that we had no more money, but when I announced my in- 
tention of stealing a rifle to shoot the English, if I could not get 
one in any other way, Bekir and Sabit began to lose their 
nerve. In spite of the extra guards either Bekir or Sabit re- 
mained awake all the time, and held on to his own and his 
comrade's rifle with grim intensity. I pretended to think all 
this vigilance was for my sake — to keep the English from 
getting at us — and I made a point of getting up once or twice 



294 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

a night, and waking those of our sentries whose turn it was 
to sleep in order to curse them , for not maintaining a better 
watch. As soon as they settled 4own again, Hill would get up 
and pray in a loud voice, startling them all into nervous 
wakefulness once more. We ourselves could sleep in security 
whenever we wished to do so, but our unhappy sentries dared 
not close an eye. We soon had them completely worn out. 

On the last day's march, while we were resting on the road- 
side near Angora, I went up to Hill and slipped something 
into his pocket. Moise, who had been warned by the Spook 
to look out for this, drew the attention of the sentries and asked 
me what it was. I refused to say. He then ordered the sen- 
tries to search us. To their consternation they not only found 
about ten pounds more in notes, but also a revolver cartridge 
on each of us. Bekir shook Hill savagely and asked where he 
got the ammunition. (We had brought it from Yozgad.) 

''From Jones," said Hill, beginning to weep. "He put it in 
my pocket just now." 

It was then my turn to be questioned. I said that I had 
bought the cartridges in the last village for five pounds apiece, 
and the fellow who had sold them to me had promised to bring 
me a revolver to fit them for twenty pounds, so that I might 
shoot the English. They vowed I had had no opportunity to 
buy them. I replied I did it while they slept. Each then 
accused the other of sleeping in his watch. When they said 
I couldn't have paid for them as we had no money, I pointed 
to the notes they had just taken from us and laughed in their 
faces. They searched us carefully again, making us take off 
most of our clothing, so that they might examine it thoroughly. 
They found nothing more. When they had quite finished Bekir 
handed me back my coat. I put my hand in the pocket he had 
just searched and drew out a gold lira. 

"You missed this," I said, handing it over. Bekir swore, 
snapped a cartridge into his rifle and held it at the ready while 
Sabit searched me for the third time that morning. He found 
some more notes — I had learned a trick or two from Hill. 

"I can't help it," I said, "my pockets breed money." 

They next turned on my companion. Hill had made no 
attempt to put his clothes on again; he was sitting on the 
grass mournfully reading his Bible. When ordered to dress 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 295 

he murmured something about clothes being a mockery and a 
snare, and went on reading. He refused to dress and there 
seemed no prospect of our moving on that day. 

Then Sabit raised his hands to heaven and prayed to Allah 
to deliver him from these two infidels, who were imdoubtedly 
in league with the devil. 

While this affecting little scene was being enacted at the 
roadside, a carriage passed us. It had a bagful of bread slung 
to the axle. The bag must have had a hole in it, because when 
at last we moved on, we came upon a loaf or a biscuit every 
few hundred yards for some distance. The sentries got out 
and collected them — the bread was fresh and they were much 
delighted. In my role of general manager of the universe I 
took all the credit. 

"There," I said. "You take our money and it rains bread." 

Bekir and Sabit, who had an uneasy belief in our magic 
powers, did not know what to make of it. They had not 
noticed the carriage. 

At Angora, where we arrived on May ist, we had to wait 
six days for a train. In accordance with Spook's orders we 
were taken to a hotel instead of to the prisoners' camp. Bekir 
and Sabit were by now in such a state of nerves that when, as 
occasionally happened, either of the two was left alone with us 
he always sat in the doorway, clinging to his rifle in a position 
that looked very much like "ready to run." One day when 
Sabit (who was if anything the more nervous of the two), 
was keeping the gate in this way, I happened to require some 
tobacco. My tobacco jar where I kept my reserve stock was 
made of two eighteen-pounder cartridge cases, my sole me- 
mento of the siege of Kut. How Sabit had missed seeing it 
before I do not know — ^perhaps Bekir had searched the por- 
tion of my kit in which it lay. Sabit watched me suspiciously 
from the doorway as I rummaged amongst my bedding and 
when I drew out the shell case he jumped to his feet with a 
yell, grabbed it from me and stood with it clasped in both 
hands. He was shivering with fright and kept crying "Bomba, 
bomba, bomba," over and over again in a terror-stricken voice. 
He looked as if he expected the "bomb" to explode at any 
moment, and he certainly did not know what to do with it 
now he had got it. 



296 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

It took a long time to explain matters in my broken Turk- 
ish, but after much persuasion he very carefully opened the lid, 
and finding only tobacco where he expected to see high explo- 
sive, he fell a-trembling more than ever, as does a man who 
has just escaped some great danger. But this was the finishing 
touch to his nerves. He and Bekir insisted henceforward on 
having extra help to guard us, and fetched in King Cole (a 
Yozgad sentry who happened to be on leave in Angora) to help 
them. 

Before we left Angora the Afion party arrived from Yozgad, 
and we were able to do one of their number — Lieut. Gallup — 
a good turn. During the journey we had noticed a pair of new 
valise straps round the Pimple's luggage. They were made of 
first-class leather with good solid brass, buckles, the whole 
finish being obviously English. Now we knew that Gallup had 
been expecting a pair of valise straps from home, and that 
the parcel which should have contained them had never turned 
up. We decided that these must be the missing straps, and 
that we would try to get them returned to their owner, so 
one day at Angora I began to twist my coat-button. 

"Sir!" Moi'se was all attention as usual. 

"If you want to find this treasure you will have to learn to 
be honest." 

"Why, what have I done?" the Pimple asked in alarm. 

"You are using stolen goods," said the Spook. "You must 
return them to their owners." 

"What do you mean, Sir? My pocket-book, my knife, the 
tinned food." 

"Go on," said the Spook. "Name them all, I'm listening." 

Moise went on naming things he possessed which he had 
stolen from prisoners' parcels, interlarding his list with expres- 
sions of regret and appeals for forgiveness. He blamed the 
Cook, I remember, for teaching him to steal. We felt a fierce 
anger against the little skunk as he went on telHng the tale 
of his thefts. At last he came to the valise straps. 

"Return them all, every one," said the Spook angrily, "or 
you will never find the treasure." 

"But I forget whose parcels I got them from," the Pimple 
whined. 

"You can begin with the straps," said the Spook; "they be- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 297 

long to Gallup, and he is in Angora now. As to the other 
things, I won't help you. You must put them back into broken 
parcels when you return to Yozgad, and you must promise to 
be honest in future." Then the Spook went on to give him 
a lecture on honesty, and the Pimple was deeply affected. 

"Thank you," he said, "in future I will be honest. It does 
me good to talk to you, Sir. But about these straps. How am 
I to send them back? What can I say? I would rather de- 
stroy them than tell Gallup I stole them." 

The little man was nearly in tears. As the important point 
was to get the straps back to Gallup we let him off the con- 
fession. 

"Clean the straps so that they will look unused," said the 
Spook, "and parcel them up. I shall make Jones write a note 
to Gallup under control, which will explain the matter." 

The Spook then made me write to Gallup saying / had 
stolen the straps "as an act of revenge," and asking him to 
take them back and forgive me for my sin. Hill added as a 
postscript something religious about the "blessedness of for- 
giveness" and my being "sore afraid." Then Moi'se took 
Gallup the note and the straps. We next met Gallup in Alex- 
andria six months later. Many a man would have twaddled to 
his fellow-prisoners about such a confession, for there is little 
enough to talk about in prison camps. Except that we had 
been mess-mates for two years he had no reason to keep silence. 
But he did, and whether he thought I had added kleptomania 
to my other forms of lunacy or not, he had kept the whole 
matter strictly secret. 

During the journey from Yozgad Hill and I had treated our- 
selves rather better in the matter of food, but for several days 
after the hanging we were forced, whether we liked it or not, 
to resume our starvation tactics, for our throats were too pain- 
ful to allow us to swallow anything solid, and even the milk 
and curds which the sentries obtained for us were at first some- 
thing of an ordeal. As our throats improved we were assailed 
with the most dreadful longing for cooked food (we had been 
for six weeks on dry bread), and on our second day in An- 
gora we indulged in a plateful each of stewed mutton and 
haricot beans. The sentries and Moise, who shared our repast, 



298 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Next day, on their own initia- 
tive, they ordered a similar dinner (at our expense, of course, 
for they always made us pay for everything and everybody). 
It was brought into our room from a neighbouring restaurant; 
but meantime the Afion party had arrived from Yozgad, and 
my fear of being poisoned by the English reasserted itself. I 
would not eat anything myself. I forbade Hill to eat anything. 
And just as the sentries were sitting down to their portion I 
seized the plates and threw them away. On no account would 
I allow my only protectors to poison themselves! Everybody 
must henceforth eat dry bread and nothing else. Simple as 
it was, the food cost forty piastres (about seven shillings) a 
plate, iDut the look of disappointment on the faces of Bekir and 
Sabit was well worth the money. 

All these incidents, and many more of a similar lunatic na- 
ture, went into the Pimple's diary of our doings, which the 
Spook edited each evening before it was written out in final 
form for presentation to the Constantinople doctors. We did 
our best to make the documentary evidence of our insanity 
complete, and the Spook under- rather than over-stated our 
eccentricities so that Bekir and Sabit, if questioned, would more 
than corroborate the Pimple's notes. It was while we were in 
Angora that Hill developed the habit which he afterwards 
carried out with great success in the hospital of writing out 
texts from the Bible and pinning them above our beds while 
we slept. Thus Bekir, after a fierce quarrel with Sabit as to 
whose turn it was to take the first night watch, woke up to 
find *'Love one another" pinned over his head. 

A roomful of Turks is not at the best of times as sweet as a 
bed of roses. If the room is small, and the Turks are common 
soldiers whose sole raiment is the ragged uniform on their 
backs, and you are with them night and day for a week, you 
may legitimately wonder why the Almighty created the sense 
of smell. There is a Dardanelles war story of the goat who 
fainted when put alongside some Turkish prisoners. Hill and 
I would not be surprised if it were true. And there are worse 
things than smells — grey things that crawl. Our sentries de- 
loused themselves daily, dropping their quarry as it was cap- 
tured into the charcoal brazier. ''Sabit holds the record," said 
Hill to me one evening. *'I counted today; he caught forty- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 299 

one on his shirt alone; but praise be it is not the typhus sea- 
son." 

Everything comes to an end some time. On May 6th 
Moi'se announced the train would leave that evening. In obe- 
dience to the orders of the Spook he had obtained for us a 
reserved compartment. We would travel in comfort. Our 
twenty fellow-prisoners from Yozgad would go by the same 
train as far as Eski Shehir, where they would branch off to 
Mon. 

The scene at Angora station beggared description. Our 
party consisted of Moi'se, Bekir, Sabit, Hill and myself. Now 
Moise had brought with him from Yozgad a quarter of a ton 
of butter, which he hoped to sell at a profit in Constantinople. 
This had fired the trading instincts of Bekir and Sabit, who 
purchased in Angora a two-hundred-pound sack of flour and 
expected to make 100% on their outlay. But neither Moi'se 
nor the sentries wanted to pay carriage on their stock in trade. 
They therefore planned to smuggle all their wares into our 
compartment, and because they could not employ porters with- 
out fear of being detected they intended to carry the butter 
and the flour from cart to train themselves. It would take all 
three of them to do this because the packages were big and 
heavy. We had been behaving so nicely for the last day or 
two that they left us out of their calculations. 

Hill and I decided to play the game of the fox, the goose, 
iand the bag of com. We crossed the platform quietly enough 
and entered the train. The off-door of the compartment was 
locked, the near door was in full view of the place where the 
luggage had been dumped. So the sentries thought they could 
safely begin the porterage. At the first sign of their leaving 
us alone I appeared to recollect that the Afion party was some- 
where on the train and fell into a great fear of being murdered 
by the English while the sentries were away. After some 
time spent in a fruitless endeavour to quieten me, Bekir went 
off alone and brought as much of the lighter luggage as he 
could manage, while Mo'ise and Sabit stood guard over us. 
The butter and flour still remained at the station entrance: it 
was disguised in blankets and rezais borrowed from our bed- 
ding, and Sabit joined Bekir in an attempt to bring it over. It 
was too heavy for them, and the Pimple ran across to lend a 



300 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

hand. As soon as I was left alone I called up a railway official 
and held him in converse near the door of the compartment. 
The three came staggering along under their sack of flour, 
saw the railway official and incontinently dropped their load 
and tried to look as if it did not belong to them. I was hustled 
back into the compartment, the railway official was informed 
that I was mad, and politely bowed himself away. The three 
went back to their load, but as soon as they got their hands 
on it I started a hullabaloo about the English coming, which 
made them drop it again and come back to me. Next time 
they made the attempt I got hold of a gendarme, complained 
to him that my escort had disappeared, and tried to buy his 
revolver. Once more they had to explain I was mad and 
hustled me back. Finally, Moi'se gave up the contest and tried 
to book his merchandise in the ordinary way. He was informed 
he was too late. Just as the train was starting, Bekir and 
Sabit, throwing concealment to the winds, got the last of their 
merchandise into the carriage and fell exhausted on top of itl 
The Spook then cursed Moi'se roimdly for crowding the medi- 
ums. 

I may as well finish the history of the butter and flour. On 
our reaching Constantinople the railway authorities discovered 
the merchandise and forced Moi'se to pay freight. The sentries 
sold the flour for exactly the amount they paid for it, so they 
had all their exertion for nothing and lost the cost of freight. 
Mo'i'se lost about £50 on the butter deal, partly owing to the 
low price he obtained, and partly because the Cook (who was 
partner in the concern) swindled him out of £30 in making up 
the account. The whole affair was very satisfactory to the 
Spook, who had warned Mo'ise against profiteering. 

The train took three nights and two days to reach Con- 
stantinople. Both sentries broke down from exhaustion and 
sleeplessness before we got to our destination, and for a time 
Bekir was seriously ill. He had high fever and a bad head- 
ache, and by way of remedy he smeared his head with sour 
"yaourf* (curds), which gave him so laughable an appearance 
that Hill had much ado to remain melancholic. 

While in the hotel at Angora, Hill and I had thoroughly dis- 
cussed our future plans. It was of course impossible to talk 
to one another because we yere perpetually under surveil' 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 301 

lance, and Hill, as a melancholic, was not supposed to talk; 
but we had a very simple and effective method of communi- 
cation. We used the spook-board. The sentries knew this was 
a phase in our lunacy and saw nothing suspicious in it. If 
the Pimple came in while we were doing it we used a very 
simple cipher which made it seem to him that the glass was 
writing sheer nonsense. The key of the cipher was to read 
not the letters touched by the glass, but two letters to the 
right of it. Hill and I of course kept our eyes open as we 
worked, and in this way were able to communicate under the 
nose of our dupe. The Pimple thought we were acting "under 
control," and questioned the Spook about it when next I 
twisted my button. 

"Yes," said the Spook, "they are under control. You see 
for yourself that the glass writes a lot of nonsense. You must 
tell the Constantinople doctors all about this and say Jones and 
Hill think all these nonsensical letters are really a cipher mes- 
sage from the dead." 

All of which, in due course, Moise did. 

The conclusion to which Hill and I came in the course of 
these spook-board discussions was that the hanging had been 
a completely successful take-in, and, if O'Farrell was correct, 
this, combined with our past history, as retailed by the Com- 
mandant in his report and a little acting on our part, would 
be quite sufficient to win us our exchange. Prospects were so 
rosy that we considered exchange our best chance, and decided 
to go through to Constantinople. Indeed, it would have been 
difficult to do anything else, for on account of our attempted 
suicide the police had become officially interested in us, and 
looked out for us along the way. The Turkish gendarmerie 
is a very reasonably efficient organization, and its members are, 
in the main, intelligent and educated above the average of the 
Ottoman Public Services. 

The only failure we contemplated was detection of our sham. 
In that case we might be put into gaol as a punishment, or we 
might be sent either separately or together to one of the 
prison camps. The most favourable contingency was that we 
might be sent back to Yozgad under charge of Moise. If this 
happened we might persuade him to try the "Four Point Re- 
ceiver" en route. If he was not sent with us we could use ou^ 



302 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

morphia tablets to drug our sentries in the train, and taking 
their rifles bolt for the coast from a favourable place on the 
railway. It must be remembered that at this time — May, 19 18 
■ — the end of the war seemed as far away as ever. 

Everything possible had been done to ensure the deception 
of the doctors, and we now began to prepare our alternative 
in case of failure. 

About 10 a. m. on the 8th May, when we were nearing Con- 
stantinople, Hill and I were ordered by the Spook to hold 
hands. For some minutes we sat in silence, and then we began 
a joint trance talk. Moi'se soon realized we were in telepathic 
touch with AAA. Amidst great excitement on the part of the 
sitter we learned the position of the third clue: it was buried 
in OOO's garden (now occupied by Posh Castle mess), five 
paces from the southern corner and two paces out from the 
wall. 

"As soon as you get to Constantinople," said the Spook, 
"send this information by letter to the Commandant, but warn 
him not to dig imtil you get back to Yozgad." 

The Pimple could not contain his delight. He began at 
once plotting what he would do with his share of the treasure. 
We allowed him ten minutes of unclouded enjoyment and then 
interrupted him. 

"Hello!" said the Spook. "Here's 000; he is laughing." 

"What is he laughing at?" Moise asked. "He should be 
weeping, he is beaten." 

"What you say has made him laugh more than ever," the 
Spook replied. "He is laughing at us. Wait a minute while 
I find out what has happened." 

There was a pause for perhaps thirty seconds, and the 
Spook spoke again: "It's all right! 000 pretends to have 
controlled Price to dig it up — that's all! You needn't look so 
alarmed, Moi'se. Even if anything has gone seriously wrong, 
we can always fall back on the Four Point Receiver. When 
you get back to Yozgad, if you don't find the clue ask Price 
about it,^ and if anything does go wrong remember the Four 
Point Receiver." 

"Before leaving Yozgad we had come to an arrangement with 
Price. If questioned he was to say that while digging in the garden 
at_the spot mentioned above he had come on a tin with a false hot- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 303 

Here the joint trance-talk ended. Hill's eyes closed, his 
head fell back against the pile of butter boxes, and he seemed 
to go off into a deep trance-sleep. Sabit was snoring in his 
comer. Opposite Sabit, and diagonally opposite me, Bekir sat 
watching with glazed eyes, and moaning sometimes in semi- 
delirium. His weather-tanned cheeks were flushed, for the 
fever was heavy upon him, and under its coating of clotted 
"yaourt" his face looked like a badly white-washed red-brick 
wall. The Pimple paid no attention to the sick man, but kept 
his eyes fixed on my coat-button, and leant forward eagerly 
to catch the Spook's words above the rattle of the train. 

It was a grim audience, but the Spook made a memorable 
speech. 

It began with the platitude that the world was in the melt- 
ing-pot. Russia was broken for ever. Turkey was doomed. 
Britain, Germany, Austria, Roumania, Serbia, Italy, France, — ■ 
all were bled white, nor could they ever recover their old 
place in the world. Their day of pride and power was over, 
and those nations which came through the war would survive 
only to sink beneath the tide of red anarchy. 

It had all happened before, many, many times. Thus had 
died the civilisations of China and Mexico, of India and 
Assyria, of the Persians, the Eg5^tians, the Greeks, and the 
Romans. And now it was the turn of Europe. It was but the 
evening of another day in the history of the world. Fear not. 
Out of the ashes a new and more glorious phoenix would arise. 
The torches of civilisation, of science, of knowledge must be 
rekindled from the dying flames of the European conflagration 
and kept burning brightly to herald the dawn of the most 
glorious day of all, the day of international brotherhood, of 
universal peace and goodwill over the whole surface of the 
globe. But whose hand was to kindle the torch? 

"America," said the Pimple. "America will do it." 

"No," the Spook answered. "It will not be America. The 
Americans have the wealth and power to hold the lead for a 
few years, but it will only be the material leadership, and even 
that will be short-lived. They will never sit upon the moral 

torn, on opening which he found a gold lira and a circular piece of 
paper with curious hieroglyphics on it. The lira he had kept (we- 
gave him one to produce), but he had lost the paper. 



304 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

throne of the world, for they have one possession too many, a 
possession which will hamper their every effort, and which 
dooms them to share the death of all the nations. They have 
a country; they are tied down to a strip of land, of common 
earth, which they regard as peculiarly their own, and which 
they are never done extolling and comparing with the territory 
of other nations. To them, as to every other nation in the 
world, their country comes first, and lie great moral forces 
come second. Like the French or the Germans or the British, 
they will lay down their lives for their country with a perfect 
self-sacrifice; but simply because they are not too proud to 
fight for themselves, simply because even if their country be in 
the wrong they are prepared to die for it, they belong to the 
vanishing era of the past. The leaders of the future will be 
a nation without a country, or rather a nation whose country 
is the whole world." 

"But there is no such nation," Moi'se objected. 

"Isn't there!" said the Spook. "Are you quite sure? Has 
there not been for a thousand years and more, is there not 
now, a nation without territory but with a great national spirit, 
a nation whose sons have been scattered for centuries over the 
earth and yet have maintained their unity of blood, and won 
their places in the council chamber as leaders of men, wherever 
they have gone? And this they have done, not by strength of 
arm and weight of armament — these are the weapons of the 
dying present which will be discarded in the new era — ^but by 
the moral and intellectual supremacy which is theirs. Intellec- 
tual, moral and religious strength is to take the place of guns 
and ships and physical force, and in these weapons of tomorrow, 
this nation — the landless nation — of which I speak is supreme. 
Moise! can you name the future leaders of humanity?" 

"The Jews," he said, and I noticed his eyes were blazing. 

"Of whom," said the Spook, "you are one, and if you will 
hearken unto me, and do that which I say, there is that in 
you which will make you leader of your kind." 

The Spook began to flatter Moi'se. The fellow really was 
an excellent linguist. The Spook made the most of it, and 
magnified his quite reasonably acute intelligence into a gift 
of phenomenal brain power. It made out that Moi'se was more 
richly endowed with the potentialities of greatness than any 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 305 

of the great leaders the world has ever seen. It insisted that 
moral force is infinitely more effective than physical. Moses, 
Mohammed, Buddha, Socrates, Jesus of Nazareth, each in his 
own way had had an influence more powerful and lasting and 
more widespread than any of the great soldiers in history; yet 
in no case had the influence of any one of them been world- 
wide or supreme, for each had taught only his own aspect of 
the universal truth. The old faiths, the old beliefs, the old so- 
cial theories were worn out and obsolete. Mohammedism, 
Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism — all these were only partial 
expressions of the truth. But now the time was ripe and 
men were ready for the complete expression of the universal. 
The world was waiting for a new leader and a new teacher 
who would heal its sores, weld it into one vast brotherhood of 
men, and guide it through an era of universal prosperity, hap- 
piness and well-doing to the millennium. And the finger of 
destiny pointed to the Jews as the chosen people, and to Moi'se 
as the chosen leader of the Jews. He had the personality, the 
brain-power, the intellectual force — all the potentialities for 
the making of the greatest man the world has ever seen. But 
he must not lessen his own power for good by descending, as 
he had done at Yozgad, to acts that were mean or low or dis- 
honest, acts that if persisted in would undermine and finally 
destroy the moral force of character on which his leadership 
would depend. The Spook lashed him for his past sins and 
then concluded: ''Henceforth, if you wish to lead the world, 
you must walk humbly and do justly. You must live a right- 
eous and austere life, so that at the appointed time you may 
join the mediums in Egypt. I shall then, if my precepts have 
been obeyed, reveal unto you how you may attain the goal of 
all the human race. Good-bye." 

Youth in general, and Jewish youth in particular, is blessed 
with a profound belief in its own capacity. Every young man 
in his inmost heart thinks that he is fitted for extraordinary 
greatness if he only had the luck, or the energy, or the knowl- 
edge necessary to develop the potentialities that lie dormant 
within him. The Pimple was no exception to the rule. He 
was not, I suppose, any more or any less ambitious than the 
average young Jew, but he undoubtedly had a very high opin- 
ion of himself. When that opinion was more than confirmed 



^o6 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

by the mysterious and infallible being in whom he placed all 
his faith; when possibilities were shown him of which he had 
never dreamt; and the vista of a glorious future was spread 
before his excited imagination, he was stirred to the depths of 
his shallow soul. I have never seen a man more moved. Long 
before the end of the Spook's speech he had burst into tears, 
and his suppressed sobbing shook him so that he dared not 
speak. For some time after the Spook had finished talking he 
sat with head bowed and averted, lest the sentries should see 
his face. Then he furtively dried his tears and implored us 
to promise to meet him in Egypt some day in the near future. 
We gave the promise and hoped it might be soon. 

We reached Constantinople about 3 o'clock that afternoon, 
and Moi'se left us on the station platform in charge of the 
sentries while he went off with his papers to arrange for our 
admission to hospital. We waited patiently, hour after hour. 
About 7 o'clock Hill turned to me — the sentries were some 
way off. 

"There's one thing worrying me," he whispered. 

"What is it, old chap?" 

"If the Pimple takes as long as this to get two lunatics into 
hospital, what sort of a job will he make of nmning the world?" 



CHAPTER XXVII 

OF THE FIRST DAY IN HAIDAR PASHA HOSPITAL AND THE PRE- 
LIMINARY EXAMINATION BY THE SPECIALISTS 

IT was long after dark when Moise returned to the station 
with the news that everything had been arranged. We 
and our baggage were then marched up the hill to Haidar 
Pasha hospital, whose main entrance is about half a mile 
from the railway terminus. For the last ten days we had been 
doping ourselves regularly with phenacetin, and this on top of 
our starvation had weakened us so much that we were glad to 
sit down on the pavement half way to the hospital and rest. 
We each took our last four tablets of phenacetin (20 grains) 
just before entering the hospital. 

The building was in darkness. We were taken to the "re- 
ceiving room," or "depot," where Moise supplied the clerk 
in charge with such facts about us as were required for entry 
in the hospital books, and handed over our kit and our money, 
for which he obtained a receipt. It is fair to the Pimple to 
record that although he could easily have done so, he made no 
attempt to retain for himself any of our belongings. Indeed, 
throughout the whole period of our spooking together he was 
always scrupulously honest to us in money matters. 

During these formalities Hill read his Bible as usual, and 
I, pretending to be under the delusion that the hospital was a 
hotel, repeatedly demanded that the night-porter should be 
summoned to show us to our rooms, and bring us a whisky and 
soda. The clerk was a humorous fellow. He explained that as 
it was war time the hotel had to be very minute in its regis- 
tration, but "Boots" would be along in due course. At last, 
the "night-porter" — a rascally Greek — appeared and led us to 
an inner room, devoid of all furniture, where he made us un- 
dress. At the depot we had been given a couple of our own 
loaves to tide us over the next day, for hospital rations would 
not be issued to us till next evening. The Greek appropriated 

307 



3o8 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

our loaves. He also went through each garment as we took it 
off, and helped himself to anything he fancied in the pockets. 
He was on the point of taking my wrist-watch when the "ha:fP- 
mam-jee" (the man in charge of the bath) arrived with towels 
for us. The watch remained on my wrist, and the Greek took 
away our clothes, presumably to the depot. I never saw mine 
again, nor did I ever get square with the descendant of Aris- 
tides, for soon after he departed to a place where clothes are 
unsuited to the climate. 

The Commander of the Bath was a washed-out looking 
Turk. He had a large, pasty, featureless face, not unlike a 
slightly mouldy ham in size, colour, and outhne. While we 
were washing he took charge of the few small belongings we still 
retained — our cigarettes and tobacco, my watch, the first vol- 
ume of the "History of My Persecution by the English." He 
failed to loosen Hill's grip on his Bible, and it came into the 
bathroom with us. He asked if we had any money, and seemed 
disappointed when he found we had none. When we had 
bathed he brought us our hospital uniform — a vest, a pair of 
pants, a weird garment that was neither shirt nor nightgown 
but half-way between, and Turkish slippers, and put into our 
hands everything he had taken from us. I was surprised at 
his honesty, but found later that, like every other subordinate 
in the hospital, he had his own method of adding to his in- 
come. Even when the doctors ordered it for us. Hill and I 
tried in vain to get another bath. Either there was "no room" 
or "the water was off" or "the bath had to be disinfected after 
itch patients" — there was always one excuse or another to 
turn us away until we discovered that a ten-piastre note would 
disinfect the bath, turn on the water, and make room for us, 
all in a breath. 

The "hammam-jee" handed us over to an attendant of the 
^'Asabi-Qaoush" (nervous ward). In the room to which we 
were taken by this gentleman there were ten beds, four on 
one side, five on the other, and one at the end. I was put into 
No. ID bed, which was next the door. Next to me, in No. 9 
bed, was a Turkish officer, and on his other side, in No. 8, 
they placed Hill. The room was faintly lit by a cheap kero- 
sene lamp. The corridor outside was in darkness. Both our 
beds were in full view of the door. . 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 309 

I covered my head with the blankets, leaving a small peep- 
bole, through which I could watch the corridor, and lay wait- 
ing. We were determined to keep awake all night, because 
O'Farrell had warned us that our greatest difficulty would be 
to get the '^insane look" into our eyes, and our best chance was 
to dull them with lack of sleep. We had expected to face the 
doctors immediately on arrival at Haidar Pasha, and had not 
closed our eyes the night before. Indeed, our last real sleep 
had been at Angora on the 5 th May, and it was now the night 
of the 8th. The beds were comfortable (it was not yet the 
bug season), and we were very weary. There followed for 
both of us a dreadful struggle against sleep. Time and again 
I pulled myself together on the verge of oblivion. I felt I 
would give all I possessed, all I hoped for, to be allowed to close 
my eyes for ten minutes, — for five, — for one! I began pinching 
myself, making the pinches keep time with the snores of a 
Turk in one of the beds opposite, but in a little while the noises 
stopped and I nearly fell asleep while waiting for the next 
snore. A rush of feet down the corridor roused me, and I lay 
listening to the sound of blows. Then all was silent again. I 
did not know at the time what had happened, but I was to see 
the same thing happen often enough — it was merely a wander- 
ing lunatic in a neighbouring ward being pounded back to bed 
by the attendants. An idea prevails that the mentally deficient 
are handled with exceptional gentleness in Mussulman coun- 
tries. It is erroneous. No doubt they are believed to be 
"smitten by Allah," but followers of the Prophet are no more 
patient than other mortals, and if a lunatic "won't listen to 
reason," orderlies take it out of the poor devil. Before I left 
Haidar Pasha I was to see sights and hear sounds that will 
never, I fear, leave my memory. The brutalities usually took 
place at night, and never when there was a doctor anywhere 
in the neighbourhood. For the Turkish doctors at Haidar 
Pasha were, in the main, humane and educated gentlemen. 
There ought to have been a medical man on the spot, night and 
day, to prevent the things I saw, and there wasn't. But that 
is another story. 

When things quietened down again I noticed through my 
peep-hole a shadow flit past in the dark corridor outside, and 
disappear beside a large cupboard. The slight scraping of a 



3IO THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

chair on the cement floor let me know that someone had taken 
a seat. We were being watched. 

This was excellent. It would help to keep me awake. I 
wondered if Hill knew, or if he had succumbed to our enemy — 
sleep. For perhaps half an hour I lay watching the cupboard, 
trying to see into the shadows beside it. Then I got out of 
bed and began a dazed wandering round the room, as Doc. 
had told me to do, peering suspiciously into corners and under 
the table and the beds. I heard the soft pad-pad of stock- 
inged feet behind me and knew the watcher had come to the 
door. Pretending to have heard nothing, I went on with my 
mysterious search till the circuit of the room was completed. 
This brought me face to face with the attendant. He stooped 
at my bedside, picked up my slippers and handed them to me. 
Apparently I might walk about as much as I pleased. I paid 
no attention to him, and got back into bed. The attendant 
returned to his post beside the cupboard. 

Half an hour later Hill began to pray aloud. It was com- 
forting to know that he, too, was awake. 

Soon, whispering in the dark corridor told me they were 
changing guard. I waited for about an hour, then I got up, 
and by the light of the miserable lamp began to wiite up the 
"History of My Persecution by the English." (I always wrote 
this at night, after the other patients were asleep.) The new 
attendant came in and ordered me back to bed. I pretended 
not to understand him and went on writing. He took me by 
the arm and dragged me from the table. I managed to bump 
into Hill's bed as I was being taken back to my own. 

After a decent interval Hill was praying again. 

I can remember hearing Hill's last amen and listening to him 
bumping his head (Mohammedan fashion) at the end of the 
prayer. (He mixed up the rituals of every creed with a de- 
lightful impartiality.) I can remember pinching myself for 
what seemed aeons, and then plucking at my eyelashes in an 
effort to sting myself into wakefulness. I saw the blackness 
of the corridor change to a pearly-grey — and after that I 
knew no more till I found myself being roughly shaken. 

"Chorba! Chorba!" the attendant was saying. He had 
brought my morning "soup" — a bowl of hot water with a few 
lentils floating in it. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 311 

I sat up with a start. It was seven o'clock, and I had slept 
nearly two hours. 

I glanced round the ward. Hill was kneeling on his bed, say- 
ing his morning prayers. The man between us was sleeping. 
In No. 7 bed a good-looking young fellow was sitting up, 
watching Hill intently. I was to come to know this man very 
well. He was Suleiman Surri, the son of a Kurdish chieftain 
and a very gallant soldier. He was perfectly sane, but his legs 
were already useless from a disease which entitled him to a 
place in the nervous ward and which might, in time, land him 
in an asylum. He employed his time in watching us, and was 
more dangerous than all the regular attendants put together; 
for he had an acute and logical mind, and like all good sports- 
men was observant of every detail. This man reported every- 
thing we did to the doctors, and missed nothing. We bear him 
no grudge for he was doing his duty as a Turkish officer, and 
in his reports he neither exaggerated nor minimized. Indeed, 
we owe him a debt of gratitude for many little acts of kind- 
ness, not least among which was his insistence that the other 
patients should treat our affliction with the same consideration 
as they showed to their brother officers. Suleiman Surri came 
from Diabekr. He had imbibed no western "culture," but he 
was one of nature's gentlemen. Courteous, courageous, and 
full of a glowing patriotism, he was a man whom any country 
might be proud to call her son, and if Turkey has many more 
like him there is yet hope for her. 

The other patients in the ward were nearly all either men- 
tally deficient or epileptics. Few stayed more than a week 
or two. At the end of a short period of observation they went 
off to the asylum, or were given into the charge of relations 
or, if they were malingering (we saw plenty of that before we 
left), they were sent back to duty — and punishment. 

About 8 o'clock a young doctor came in. He was dressed in 
the regulation white overall, and his duty, as we afterwards 
discovered, was to make a preliminary examination and diag- 
nosis for submission to his chief. At his heels, looking decid- 
edly nervous and uncomfortable, trotted our Pimple. An at- 
tendant took me by the arm and led me to the table, facing the 
doctor. 

Moise introduced me: "This is Ihsan Bey." 



312 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"Chok eyi" (very good), I said, and grasping the doctor's 
hand I pumped it up and down in the manner of one greeting 
an old friend, as O'Farrell had told me to do. He grinned, 
and told me to sit down. 

"The Doctor Bey has a few questions to ask you," said 
Moise. 

"Certainly," I said. "But first I have something to say to 
him." I launched into a very long and confused story of how 
I had been deceived in the dark into believing that the hospital 
was a hotel, demanded that the mistake be rectified at once, 
and that I be taken to the best hotel in Pera as befitted a 
friend of Enver Pasha. The Yozgad Commandant, I said, 
would be very angry when he knew what Moise had done, for 
I was a person of consequence in Turkey, and was going to 
see the Sultan. I would answer no questions until I got to the 
hotel — and so forth, and so on. 

The doctor explained that this was the usual procedure — ' 
everybody who wanted to see Enver Pasha had to be examined 
first on certain points. I then told him to fire away with his 
questions. 

He consulted a bulky file of documents (amongst which I 
noticed the report of Kiazim Bey) and began filling up the 
regulation hospital form. 

"Your name," he said, writing busily, "is Jones, lieutenant 
of Artillery." 

"No," I said, "that's wrong! If that's for Enver Pasha it 
won't do! My name used to be Jones, but I've changed it. 
I'm going to be a Turk, — a Miralai first and then a Pasha." 

"I see," said Ihsan. "What's your name now?" 

"Hassan oghlou Ahmed Pasha," said I earnestly.^ 

"Very well, Hassan oghlou Ahmed, what diseases have you 
had?" said Ihsan, smiling in spite of himself. 

"What the deuce has that to do with Enver Pasha?" I 
expostulated. "There's no infection about me, unless I picked ■ 
up something in your beastly .bath last night." I began a com- 
plaint about the state of the hospital bathroom, but was in- 
terrupted. 

"I must know," Ihsan said. 

*A type of nomenclature common amongst Turkish peasantry. 
"Hassan's boy Ahmed" was a very incongruous name for a Pasha. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 313 

"Measles, scarlet fever, whooping cough — is that enough?" 

"No — I want them all." 

"Malaria, ague, dengue fever, black-water fever, enteric, 
paratyphoid, dysentery," I said. 

"Have you ever had syphilis?" the doctor asked. This was 
the disease he expected me to name. The examination was 
proceeding exactly on the lines O'Farrell had foretold, and I 
knew what to do. I hung my head and began picking ner- 
yously at the hem of my nightgown-shirt. 

"Come," he went on. "You've had it, have you not?" 

"I've had pneumonia and pleurisy," I said, picking away 
more furiously than ever. 

"Never mind about the other things, — ^I want to know about 
sj^hilis." 

"Why?" I asked. 

"I want to find out why you are ill." 

"But I'm not ill!— Don't be silly!" 

"You've got to tell me," he said sternly. 

I remained silent. 

"Enver Pasha is very particular about this question," Ihsan 
went on in an encouraging tone. "Come now." 

"When I was about eighteen," I began shamefacedly — and 
stopped. 

"Yes! When you were about eighteen?" 

"Nothing!" I said, with sudden resolution, "nothing at all! 
I was very well when I was eighteen! And what's more, I 
think you are very insulting to ask such a question. I don't 
believe Enver Pasha cares two whoops whether I've had S5TDh- 
ilis or not. I am sure you have no right to ask me such a 
thing! I'll report you for it!" In my pretended excitement 
my straining fingers ripped a large piece out of my night- 
gown-shirt. (I was to destroy many more of those elegant 
garments before we were done with Haidar Pasha.) The 
doctor calmed me down. 

"There now!" he said soothingly. "You needn't say it. 
What treatment did you undergo?" 

"When?" 

"When you were eighteen — when you had syphilis, you 
know." 

"There you go again!" I roared. "I tell you I never had 



314 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

it! You lie and you lie and you lie! You are in the pay of 
the English! You all say the same, and you all lie! It's a 
plot, I know it is, and you're going to lock me up again so 
that I'll never see the Sultan, and shove needles into me, and 

inject things into me like that fool M ^ did, and keep 

me locked up for months and months, all on the excuse that 
I've got syphilis, and I haven't, I tell you I haven't, I tell you 

it's a lie, and you'll have to admit it, as M had to admit 

it, and let me go again as he had to let me go, and then I'll 
have you all hanged, every man jack of you, along with 
Baylay. . ." 

I raved on and on, bringing in the name of M at fre- 
quent intervals. 

At length Ihsan managed to calm me down again and pro- 
ceeded with his questions. 

"Say these figures— 4, 7, 9, 6, 5, 3." 

"What fool game are you at now?" I asked. "Why should 
I say them?" 

"Because you must!" Ihsan said sharply. 

"Why?" I persisted. 

"I want to see if you can repeat them after me. I'm test- 
ing your memory for Enver Pasha." 

"AH right, say 'em again, and I'll repeat them." 

In order to give me the same figures the young doctor had 
to consult his notes. (He was writing down each question as 
he asked it.) 

"There you are!" I jeered. "You've forgotten them your- 
self!" 

He grinned a little sheepishly, and gave me the figures again. 

"That's quite simple," I said, and repeated them correctly. 
"Any fool can do that! Now, talking of figures, there's funny 

*I gave the name of a well-known Scottish expert on nervous 
diseases — an old college friend of mine. It had the efifect I desired. 
Whether they looked him up afterwards in some medical list or 
whether, as is more probable, they already knew of his writings 
and his reputation in the treatment of nervous diseases, I do not 
know. But some days later the chief doctor, Mazhar Osman Bey, 

tried to question me about "the Doctor Bey, M , of Glasgow." 

The "of Glasgow" showed me my friend was known to them, so 
assuming as cunning a look as I could, I denied ever having heard 
the name before. The Chief smiled to himself and went away. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 315 

things about figures. For instance, take the figure 9, you'll 
find everything goes by nines. Look! — there's nine panes in 
that window, there's nine people on your side of the room, 
there's nine beds in the ward (that one by itself at the end 

doesn't count) and there's nine Muses, and nine " 

"Never mind about nine," said Ihsan, "repeat these figures, 

8, 4, 3, 7, S-" 

"That's too easy," I said. "I'll tell you what— I'll multiply 
those figures by 25 in my head. Can you do that?" 

"Never mind about multiplying them — just say them." 

"You can't do it," I jeered, "and I can! The answer is 
2109375." 

"Repeat the original figures," said Ihsan. 

"I won't!" I said. "I've multiplied them by 25 — 2109375 
• — and done it in my head, and that should be good enough 
for Enver Pasha or anyone else. Test my answer if you 
like!" 

Just to humour me he did, and found to his amazement I 
was correct (every English schoolboy knows the trick of add- 
ing two noughts and dividing by four). Before he had time 
to recover from his surprise I went on. 

"I'm clever enough for anybody! I know all about figures. 
See here! Here's a question for you; supposing the head of a 
fish weighs nine okkas and the tail weighs as much as the head 
and half the body, and the body weighs as much as the head 
and tail put together, what is the weight of the fish? Or would 
you prefer a puzzle about monkeys? I know about monkeys 
too, for I've been in India and " 

"Never mind about monkeys and fish," Ihsan interrupted. 
"Tell me, do you ever see visions?" 

"Oh yes!" I said. "That's spiritualism. I've got the spook- 
board downstairs in the depot." 

Moi'se corroborated my statement, and referred the doctor 
to some passages in the file, which he read with interest. For 
some time the two men talked together in Turkish. 

"Tell me about these spirits," Ihsan said at last. 

"No fear!" I replied. "Hill and I were caught out that 
■way in Yozgad. I'm not going to be imprisoned for telepathy 
again. Two months on bread and water is quite enough, thank 
you!" 



3i6 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

I refused to say a word about spirits or visions, knowing 
that Mo'ise would supply the doctors with the information re- 
quired. He did, and told all about the telepathy trial. 

"Well," Ihsan went on, "do you ever smell smells that are 
not there?" 

"There are plenty of real smells in Turkey," I said, "without 
worrying about the ones that are not there. Why on earth 
are you wasting my time with these asinine questions? Let's 
get to the War Office without any more of this foolery." 

Ihsan laughed, and asked why I wanted to go to the War 
Office. I leant forward confidentially and told him I had a 
plan for finishing the war in a week, and once I got to Enver 
Pasha I'd blow England sky high. I was working at the 
scheme now. Hill was my engineer and designer — and very soon 
everything would be completed. I talked on and on about 
my new aeroplane that would carry 10,000 men, and the com- 
ing invasion of England by air, 

"Why do you hate the English?" Ihsan asked. 

I went into an involved and excited account of my "perse- 
cution" — of how Baylay had tried to poison me, and of how 
my father, mother and wife sent me poisoned food in parcels 
from England. Ihsan had to interrupt me again. 

"Why did you try to commit suicide?" he asked. 

"I didn't," I said. 

"You hanged yourself at Mardeen." 

"That's a lie!" I roared. "A dirty lie! And I know who 
told you!" 

"Who was it?" 

"It was that little swine Moise," I said, pointing at the un- 
happy Interpreter. "He's been telling everybody. I expect 
he's been bribed by the English. Yes! That's it! Ba5day 
must have paid him money to get me into trouble! He'll do 
anything for money. Don't you believe him! He's not a 
Turk — he's a dirty Jew, and the biggest liar in Asia. I never 
hanged myself!" 

Ihsan laughed and Moise looked uncomfortable. (I must 
admit it was unpleasant for him to have to translate these 
things about himself.) 

"Look at him!" I said. "He knows what I am going to 
say next, and he is afraid. He stole all our money on the way 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 317 

to Angora. Arrest him for it! I tell you he is in league with 
the English. Arrest him and hang him!" 

"You are mad, my friend," said Ihsan. "You are mad. 
That's what's the matter with you!" 

I stared at him, open-mouthed. 

''I'm a speciaHst," he went on, "and I know. You're mad!" 

"I don't know whether you are a specialist or not," I said 
angrily, "but I do know you are a most phenomenal liar. I 
am no more mad than you are. This is a plot, that's what it is, 
and you are all in league against me. You are jealous of me — 
that's what's the matter— jealous of me. You know my brain 
is better a tenfold, a hundredfold, a thousand million million- 
fold, than yours, and you are jealous! You know I am rich 
and great and powerful and you are jealous. So you say I am 
mad. How dare you say I am mad without even examining 
me?" 

"I've been examining you all along," said Ihsan, laughing. 
"Go back to bed." 

"I won't!" I said. "I must put this right" — an orderly 
took me by the arm but I shook him off. "Look here!" I ex- 
postulated, "let me explain! I'm sorry I said you were jeal- 
ous — I see it all now. Let me explain. I see it all now. Let 
me explain, will you?" 

Ihsan Bey signed to the orderly to leave me alone, and I 
continued. 

"I'm not mad. You are puzzled in the same way that 

M was puzzled. You are making this mistake because 

you're a specialist, that's what it is. You specialists are all 
the same. I'm a strong man, strong enough to fight any six 
men in this room. I've got a heart like a sledgehammer. I'm 
sound all through. But if I went to a heart specialist he would 
find something wrong with my heart, and if I went to a stom- 
ach specialist he'd find something wrong with my stomach, and 
if I went to a liver specialist he'd find something wrong with 
my liver. You are all the same, you doctors. Because you 
happen to be a brain specialist you say there's something 
wrong with my brain. That's what it is, and you're a Har! 
Vmnot, NOT mad!" 

I began to rave again and was taken off to bed by the order- 
lies. Ihsan Bey came and stood beside me. He had a tin;^ 



3i8 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

silver-plated hammer, capped with rubber, in his hand. With 
this he went over my reflexes, hastily at first and then more 
and more carefully. He took a needle and tried the soles of 
my feet, the inside of my thighs, and my stomach reflexes. He 
paid special attention to my pupils. Then he stood up, 
scratched his head, and after gazing at me for a moment rushed 
out into the corridor and brought in a second doctor — ^Talha 
Bey. Together they read over my "deposition" and together 
they went over my reflexes, again. Both men were obviously 
well up in their work, and I made no effort to hold back my 
knee jerks or other reflexes for I had been warned by O'Farrell 
that concealment against a competent doctor was hopeless. So 
all the responses had been normal and Ihsan and Talha, who 
were both convinced from my "history" and my answers that 
t must have had syphilis, were hopelessly puzzled by the ab- 
sence of the physical symptoms they expected to find. They 
consulted together for some time and then Talha came and sat 
down by me. 

He was a clever youth, and should get on in the world. He 
began by talking about India. A little later he said I appeared 
to have suffered much from the climate — dysentery and ma- 
laria and so on. I admitted that was so, and chatted away 
quite frankly and pleasantly. Then he talked about microbes 
and asked if the doctors in India were as clever as the Con- 
stantinople doctors, and knew about combating diseases by 
injections. I said they did. He pretended surprise and dis- 
belief — ^how did I know? — ^had they ever given me injections? 

I saw what the sly fellow was after, and pretended to walk 
straight into his trap. O'Farrell had coached me very thor- 
oughly. 

"Oh yes!" I said. "I've had plenty of injections! You've 
come to the right man if you want to know about injections. 
I had a regular course of them once." 

"How interesting," said Talha. "Where did they inject 
you?" 

"In the thigh," I said. "First one thigh and then the o\hia. 
A sort of grey stuff it was." 

"Not more than once, surely 1" he said, with pretended sur- 
prise. 

"Oh yes," I said. "Every week for about six weeks^and 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 319 

then a spell off, and then every week for another six weeks, 
and so on, and then I had to take pills for two years. I know 
all about injections, you bet." 

''Dear me!" said Talha, "what a curious treatment! What 
was that for, I wonder?" 

I managed to look confused, stammered a little, plucked 
nervously at the hem of my nightgown, and then brightened 
up suddenly and said, "Malaria! — ^yes, that was it! Malaria!" 

Talha smiled and left me. He thought he had got the ad- 
mission he wanted, fop I had described the treatment for 
syphilis. 



CHAPTER XXVIII 

OF THE WASSEEMANN TESTS AND HOW WE DECEIVED THE 
MEDICAL BOARD 

HILL'S examination followed. It was much shorter, for 
Hill's conduct was in every way the antithesis of 
mine. He answered each question with a gloomy 
brevity, and never spoke unless spoken to. The ques- 
tions asked were much the same as those put later to him by 
Mazhar Osman Bey in the interview which I quote below, but 
at this preliminary examination Hill denied the hanging. I 
could not hear what was said, for they spoke in low tones; in 
the middle of it I saw Ihsan grab Hill's wrist, but the phenace- 
tin was doing its work and his pulse revealed nothing. Once 
Hill wept a little, and several times while Ihsan and Moise 
were talking together in Turkish he opened his Bible in a de- 
tached sort of way and went on with his eternal reading. His 
face throughout was puckered and lined with woe. How he 
kept up that awful expression through all the months that fol- 
lowed I do not know. But he did it, and from first to last I 
never saw him look anything like his natural happy self. At 
the close of his examination he was taken back to bed and 
Ihsan ran over his reflexes in the ordinary way. Then the 
doctors left the room. 

An hour later the orderly on duty called out, "Doctor Bey 
geldif" (the Doctor has come) and every patient in the ward, 
except Hill, sat up in an attitude of respect. A little proces- 
sion entered. At its head was the chief doctor, Mazhar Os- 
man Bey. Behind him followed his two juniors, Ihsan and 
Talha, in their white overalls, and behind them a motley 
crowd of students and orderlies, the latter carrying trays of 
instruments which the great man might need on his rounds. 

Mazhar Osman was a stout, well-dressed, well-set-up man 
of about 40 years of age, with a jovial and most confoundedly 
intelligent face. He spoke French and German as easily as 

320 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 321 

Turkish and was in every way a highly educated and accom- 
plished man. In his profession he had the reputation of being 
the greatest authority on mental diseases in Eastern Europe. 
As we discovered later, he was Berlin trained, had studied in 
Paris and Vienna, and was the author of several books on his 
subject,^ some of which we were told had been translated into 
German, and were regarded as standard works. It is of course 
impossible for a layman to judge the real professional merit of 
a doctor, but this Hill and I can say: during our stay in Con- 
stantinople we were examined at various times by some two 
score medical men — Turks, Germans, Austrians, Dutch, Greek, 
Armenian, and British. We were subjected to all sorts of 
traps and tests and questions. There is no doubt we were of- 
ten suspected, especially by those who were ignorant of our 
full "medical history," but nobody inspired us with such a fear 
of detection, or with such a feeling that he knew all about his 
business, as Mazhar Osman Bey. 

He seemed hardly to glance at Hill as he made his round. 
I found out afterwards that it was a favourite trick of his to 
leave his patients alone for several days after their arrival — 
but when he got to my bed he stopped, and stood looking at 
me in silence for some time. Then he put his hand on my 
heart. It was quite steady. 

"I suppose," I said gloomily, "you are a heart specialist." 
Moi'se translated, and Mazhar Osman laughed, showing he 
knew of my tirade against specialists, and asked me why I 
looked so cross. I complained bitterly that Ihsan Bey had 
said I was mad and was keeping me there against my will. 

'Thsan Bey does not understand you," said Mazhar Osman; 
"you must learn to speak Turkish." 

*A pamphlet of his (later, when I had become his favourite pa- 
tient, he presented me with an autograph copy of it) was entitled, 
Spiritism Aleyhinde (Against Spiritualism). So far as I could un- 
derstand it (it was written in very technical Turkish), he sought to 
prove that the proper abode for spiritualists is a private asylum, 
and the so-called "subconscious" replies to questions given in auto- 
matic writing, table-rapping, etc., and similar phenomena, are as 
much due to nervous derangement as are the conversations with 
spirits indulged in by sufferers from G.P.I. He challenged me to 
write a reply to his pamphlet from the spiritualist point of view. 
Perhaps this book will do instead. 



322 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"I will," I said enthusiastically, "I'll learn it in a month." 
(And I did!) "I'll also learn every other language in the 
^orld." 1 

■ Mazhar Osman smiled again, and said something in Turkish 
to the gaping crowd of students. Then he examined my re- 
flexes, gave an order to his subordinates, and left the room. 

Soon after, I learned what the order had been. Ihsan and 
Talha came back and announced they were going to take my 
blood and draw off some of my spinal fluid. I had hoped 
these tests might be omitted, for they would show beyond 
doubt that I had no syphilitic infection, and I feared that this 
might prove the first step in the detection of my simulation. 
But these men were leaving nothing to chance. They were 
convinced I had syphilis, and were going to prove it, and they 
said so. If I wouldn't admit to having suffered from the 
disease I must submit to the test. 

It was too dangerous to make such an admission, for they 
might — probably would — carry on with the tests in spite of 

* On the strength of Mazhar Osman Bey's suggestion to learn 
Turkish I promptly ordered "a hundred books on the Turkish lan- 
guage," and gave nobody any rest until I was provided with one 
(at my own expense, of course). It was Hagopian's Conversation 
Grammar — a most excellent book. I had plenty of teachers — every 
patient in the hospital and most of the doctors were delighted to 
give me a lesson whenever I asked for one — and to the delight of 
Mazhar Osman Bey I made rapid strides in Turkish. Needless to 
say, a sane occupation of this sort was of the utmost value to me, 
and my only regret was that, as a madman, my study of this most 
interesting language had to be spasmodic and irregular. Still, I 
learned enough to becqme something of a "show patient," and to 
gain from the Dutch Embassy at Constantinople, whose medical 
representatives visited us about July, the following quite unsolicited 
and rather amusing "testimonial." It was sent as a "Report" by 
the Embassy, and reached my family through the India Office: — 

"Haidar Pasha Hospital. — We found here Lieut. Henry Elias 
Jones, Artillery Battery (volunteer). The lo of May, 1918, he was 
sent down from Yozgad with mental disturbance. He was quite 
content and we had a long talk with him. He wants to be a Turk, 
and mistrusts all English, and will not take anything if it comes 
from his parents or from England. He wants a Turkish uniform 
and will settle down in Turkey. Intelligent as he is, he learnt 
Turkish with an astonishing good accent in an exceedingly short 
time. He will probably be sent back to England with the first ex- 
change." 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 323 

me, and so prove me a liar. My object was to tell the truth 
in such a way that they would think it a lie. 

"I protest," I said. "I have never had syphilis." 

"Your blood and your spinal fluid will prove who is right," 
Ihsan grinned. 

'There's nothing wrong with either," I said indignantly. 
So far I had told the truth. Now was the time to add a lie 
which they couldn't possibly detect, and which would puzzle 

them later on. "Both were tested in England by M , so 

I know. I'll tell you what, though, if you are so certain about 
it, will you bet?" 

"Certainly," said Talha — I think he hoped to make a little 
money! — "how much would you like to bet?" 

"Oh, say a hundred thousand pounds," said I. 

Talha cut it down to a hundred. I submitted gleefully to 
the test, and while they drew blood from my arm I babbled 
away about how sorry they would be when they had to pay 

up, and how I had won money from M in the same way. 

Then they tackled my spine. I saw an orderly blow down the 
hollow needle and wipe it on the back of his breeches before 
handing it over to the doctors, and it nearly gave me a fit. If 
it had not been for Hill I think I would have given in and 
confessed, for I dreaded infection. I knew enough about 
needles to be in mortal terror of a dirty one. I believe I gave 
a start, or looked frightened, for orderlies pounced upon me and 
held me down in the required position. The student who was 
practising his prentice hand on me made two boss shots before 
he hit the bull. It was altogether beastly. 

The report of the bacteriologist, of course, stated every- 
thing was healthy and normal, I danced with simulated joy, 
jeered at Ihsan and Talha, called loudly, day after day, for 
my hundred pounds and demanded to be sent forthwith to 
Enver Pasha. Ihsan and Talha went through another head- 
scratching competition. I have never seen two men more in- 
terested or more fogged. Meantime Hill was being left sedu- 
lously alone— a treatment quite as trying to the nerves of the 
malingerer as what I had been through. He knew quite well 
that though no one went near him he was under observation 
every minute of the twenty-four hours. 

On the 13th May, five days after our admission into hospital, 



324 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

they held a Board on our cases. I was examined on much 
the same lines as on the first occasion, except that they pestered 
me a good deal more about the hanging, which I continued to 
deny. They also questioned me about Hill. There was in 
our kit (it was put there purposely for them to find) the 
following cutting from the Constantinople paper Hilal of June 
ist, 1916: 

*'Un aviateur Anglais a Damas. 

"Le journal *EI Chark' de Damas ecrit: L'aviateur Aus- 
tralien Hoi faisant son service dans I'armee anglaise, a pris 
son vol de Kantara pres du Canal, et a survole le desert pour 
faire des reconnaissances. Une panne survenue en cours de 
route I'obligea a atterrir. 

"Quelques habitants du desert ont accouru sur les lieux pour 
le capturer, mais il opposa une resistance achamee qui a dure 
six heures. Finalement il a du se rendre. Cet aviateur a ete 
amene a Damas." 

From the fact that Mazhar Osman Bey began to question 
me about Hill's capture I gathered they had found the cutting, 
and that their interest had been roused, as we hoped would be 
the case. I replied that all I knew about it was that the Arabs 
had knocked him on the head so that he became unconscious. 
(This was quite untrue, as the Arabs did Hill no injury, but 
O'Farrell had said that a bump on the head would be a good 
"point" in Hill's medical history. It certainly created an im- 
pression on the doctors, for there was a good deal of whisper- 
ing after I mentioned it.) Mazhar Osman Bey then asked 
what I thought of Hill — and I think he hoped I would say he 
was mad. I replied he was my engineer and was designing 
me an aeroplane to carry 10,000 men, and I would make 3,000 
such aeroplanes and would invade England with 30,000,000 
men, etc., etc., etc. I was interrupted and told to go, and 
after another appeal to be sent to Enver Pasha and to be made 
a Turkish officer on the ground that my blood test, etc., had 
proved me sane, I went. 

Hill was then called in. The following is his description of 
what occurred: 

'After about ten minutes Jones came out and I was led in. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 325 

It was a small room, and choc-a-bloc with doctors of all sizes. 
There was a stool in front of the head doctor (Mazhar Osman 
Bey) on which I was invited to sit down. He spoke to me 
through the Inteipreter, who stood beside me. 

"I had thorough 'wind up,' my nerves being already upset 
from the first strenuous five days, but pretended to be fright- 
ened at finding myself amongst so many strangers. I fingered 
the Bible nervously, opening it every now and then. The 
conversation ran something as follows: 

Doctor. "What is the book you are always reading?" 

Hill. "The Bible." 

Doctor. "Why do you read it so much?" 

Hill. "It is the only hope in this wicked world. Don't 
you read the Bible?" 

Doctor. "Who are you that you should call the whole 
world wicked — are you a priest?" 

Hill. "No." 

Doctor. "What religion do you believe in?" 

Hill. "I believe in all religions. There is only one God." 

Doctor. "Have any of your people suffered from insanity?" 

Hill. "No." (To Moise) "Why does he ask me that?" 

Moi'sE. "It is for your own good." 

Doctor. "What illnesses have you had?" 

Hill. "I have had typhoid." 

Doctor. "Anything else?" 

Hill. "I had fits when I was young. At least my people 
said they were fits, but I don't think they were fits." (This 
of course was a lie — O'Farrell's instructions again.) 

Doctor. "What were they like?" 

Hill. "I used to fall down. I don't remember what hap- 
pened after that." 

Doctor. "Why did you try to hang yourself?" 

Hill. "I didn't!" 

Doctor. "But Moi'se saw youl" 

Hill. "No, I didn't!" 

Doctor. "Did you do this drawing of a marJhine* for 
Jones?" 

* This referred to a large drawing of a monstrous machine which 
was placed in my (Jones's) kit for the doctors to find. The ma- 



326 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Hill. "Yes; but there is no sense in it, and it is wicked." 

Doctor. "Why did you do it?" 

Hill. "Because Jones told me to." 

Doctor. "Why do you do what Jones tells you?" 

Hdll. "Because he is very wicked, and I want to convert 

him. He has promised to be converted if I do what he 

wants." ^ 
Doctor. "Did you know Jones before the war, or what 

he did?" 

Hill. "No. I think he was a Judge in Burma." 

Doctor. "Do you know what this place is?" 

Hill. "I think it is a hospital." 

Doctor. "Do you know what all these people are?" 

Hill. "I think they are doctors." 

Doctor. "Do you know what disease you have?" 

Hill. "I have no disease. There is nothing the matter 

with me." 

(A murmur went through the crowd of doctors.) 

chine was designed to flatten out capes, fill up bays, and uproot all 
islands, thereby straightening the coastline and making the sea safe 
for navigation. The power was to be derived from the weight of 
the Great Pyramid, which was to be removed from Egypt and 
placed on a raft 500 feet long. The raft would rise and fall with 
the motion of the waves, and operate an enormous knife which 
would cut away capes, islands, etc. One of the uses to which the 
machine was to be put was to slice under the island of Great 
Britain. We would then turn it over and start a new England on 
the other side! 

^ Somewhere in Hill's kit (I don't know if the doctors ever saw 
it) was the following incoherent document, written in a very 
scrawly hand : 

"I, Elias Henry Jones, Master of Arts Assistant Commissioner- 
in the Indian Civil Service Deputy Commissioner of Kyaukse Dis- 
trict Upper Burma and Headquarters Assistant Moulmein Lieu- 
tenant Indian Army Reserve of Officers in the Volunteer Artillery 
Battery born at Aberystwyth and educated at Glasgow University 
and BaUiol College Oxford CERTIFY and PROMISE by AL- 
MIGHTY GOD that if you will assist me in my great scheme and do 
everything I require of j'ou including draw and inventions of MA- 
CHINERY I certainly will be converted by you and give up all 
wickedness as you say as soon as my great scheme is finished and 
until then you must help me with designs and drawings and in- 
ventions of NECESSARY MACHINERY. 

"Signed E. H. JONES." 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 327 

Doctor. "Why did you try to commit suicide?" 

Hill. 'T didn't!" 

Doctor. "But Moise saw you hanging." 

Hill. *T didn't. It is very wicked." 

Doctor. "It is very wicked to tell lies." 

Hill (looking very ashamed). "Yes." 

Doctor. "It is very wicked to try and commit suicide, but 
sometimes people feel they don't want to live any more." 
(Hill, fidgeting nervously and looking more ashamed than 
ever, nodded.) "You did try and hang yourself, didn't you? 
I know you are a very religious man, and will tell me the 
truth." 

Hill (after thinking for a long time, looking very ashamed, 
whispered). "Yes." 

Doctor. "Why?" 

Hill (crying). "Jones was going to, and I didn't want to 
live without Jones." 

MoisE. "The doctor thanks you very much. That is all." 



At the first opportunity Hill told me he had admitted the 
hanging. (He had denied it at his first examination.) 

"If they confront me with you and your admission," I said, 
"I think the right line would be for me to bash you on the jaw. 
Will you mind?" 

"Carry on," said Hill. 

"I'll have to hit pretty hard and pretty quick." 

"Right-o!" said Hill. 

But the assault was never necessary. Although the doctors 
tried in many ways to get me to admit having attempted sui- 
cide, they never told me that Hill had confessed. I think they 
were afraid of the consequences for Hill. 

Later in the same day a lady came to see us. She was ac- 
companied by the Sertabeeb (Superintendent of the Hospital). 
She was Madame Paulus, of the Dutch Embassy, and Heaven 
knows it went bitterly against the grain to deceive her and 
wring her woman's heart with our senseless gabble, but under 
the circumstances we had no choice. 

"I have come from the Dutch Embassy," she said. "I 
always come to see sick prisoners." 



328 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Hill glanced up from his Bible. "I am not sick," he said 
surlily. 

"No," I chimed in, "he's not sick. He's always like that. 
And I'm not sick either. They are keeping us here against 
our wills. I belong to the Turkish War Office, and I'm going 
to have a Turkish uniform. Tell them to let us go — I say I" 
(In alarm) : "You are not EngUsh, are you?" 

"I speak English," said Madame Paulus gently, "but I am 
not English. I come from Holland. Do you know where 
that is, Mr. Hill?" 

Hill nodded slightly, but went on reading his Bible. 

"Oh, won't you talk to me?" she begged. 

"I don't want to talk," he said sourly. 

"I'll talk to you," I cried enthusiastically; "come over here. 
Don't bother about him — he's always like that. Come and 
talk to me." I called to an orderly to bring a chair and set 
it by my bed, but nobody paid any attention to me except the 
Sertabeeb, who spotted the symptom and smiled. 

"Why don't you want to talk, Mr. Hill?" Madame Paulus 
went on. 

"It is wicked to talk unnecessarily," Hill growled. 

"Oh no, it isn't. I see you are reading the Bible. It is a 
very good book to read, and I am sure it does not say it is 
wicked to talk. Jesus used to talk." 

"Some of the Bible is wrong," said Hill. "I'm going to re- 
write it." 

"Dear I Dear!" said Madame Paulus, sympathetically. She 
turned to me. 

"Here are some flowers and chocolate I brought you from the 
Embassy." 

"Are you sure they are not from the English? Are you 
certain they are not poisoned?" I cried. After much persua- 
sion I was prevailed on to accept them. (As soon as she had 
gone I threw away the chocolate, saying she was an English 
spy and it was poisoned. Some of the Turks retrieved and 
devoured it.) 

"Here are some beautiful flowers for you, Mr. Hill," the 
gentle lady went on. 

Hill went on reading. 

"Oh, won't you take them? Won't you put them in water? 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 329 

I brought them for you because I thought you would like 
them." She put them into Hill's hand. He glanced at them 
without showing the slightest interest and went on reading. 

"There," she said, soothingly. "But you must put them in 
water, you know, or they will die." 

"I have nothing to put them in," said Hill. "It was wicked 
to pick them." 

Madame Paulus got a glass from another patient. Hill 
stuffed the flowers into it, anyhow, and turned back to his 
Bible. 

"Do you like chocolate?" 

"Yes," said Hill. 

"Well, here is some I brought you from the Embassy." 

Hill took it and went on reading. 

"Won't you eat it?" Madame Paulus asked. 

"Not to-day." 

"Why not to-day?" she cried, and then — ^noticing Hill's 
breakfast and lunch standing untouched on the table by his 
bed, "Oh! Why haven't you eaten your food?" 

"It is wicked to eat much," said Hill, "I am fasting to-day." 

"Oh, dear! dear! When will you eat it?" 

"When I have done fasting," Hill sighed. 

"When will that be?" 

"After forty days," said Hill, very mournfully. "Jesus used 
to fast for forty days." 

With a little gesture of despair Madame Paulus turned to 
me. 

"May I write to your relatives?" she asked. "They would 
like to know how you are." 

"No!" I said, in a frightened voice. "No! certainly not! 
They want to kill me. Don't tell them where I am. They 
hate me." 

"Oh no! no! No mother ever hated her son. You must 
give me her address so that I may write. Are you married?" 

"Yes," I said, "I am. But my wife is the worst of the 
bunch. She puts poison in my parcels, and I'm going to di- 
vorce her, that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to divorcb 
the whole crowd of them, wife, mother, father — every one of 
them, and be a Turk, for they are all bad, bad, bad!" (I 
burst into tears.) 



330 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Madame Paulus wrung her hands. She was very nearly in 
tears herself, poor lady, and I hated the whole business. She 
turned to the Sertabeeb. 

"II dit qu'il va divorcer sa femmer* she cried. 

"C'est comme ga, cette maladie," the Sertabeeb said, sym* 
pathetically. 

Madame Paulus and the Sertabeeb conversed together in 
low tones — I could not catch what was said — and then she 
turned to Hill. 

"You will be going home soon," she said. "Will you like 
that? All sick prisoners are going home in July." 

Our hearts leapt within us. This was the first news we had 
had of a general exchange of sick prisoners. But we had to 
keep it up. I could see the Sertabeeb was watching us keenly 
!! — as we discovered later, he knew a little English. 

"I am not sick," said Hill. 

"You are both to be sent home in July. Don't you want to 
be sent home?" 

"I don't care." Hill's voice sounded full of sadness. "There 
is plenty to do in Turkey." 

"What are you going to do?" 

"I am going to convert the Turks first. Then I will go to 
England." 

"But don't you want to see your father and mother? And 
your sisters and brothers?" 

"I don't care! They are all sinners — poor lost sheep — but 
they do not need me more than the people I see about me. 
I'll convert the Turks first." 

"Oh, dear! You shouldn't say that. What does the Fifth 
Commandment say?" 

" 'Honour thy father and thy mother.' " 

"Yes. Then why don't you follow the Bible?" 

I thought Hill was getting into a hot corner, and that a 
counter-attack was necessary. 

"Here! I say!" I called. "You're not thinking of sending 
me to England, are you?" 

"Don't you want to go?" she asked. 

"Don't you know Lloyd George wants to kill me?" I asked, 
excitedly. "I thought you knew that! Everybody knows he 
hates me, and it is all Baylay's fault." Once on the subject of 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 331 

good old Baylay I could keep going like a Hyde Park orator, 
and I did. 

Madame Paulus made one more effort to get my home ad- 
dress and failed. She succeeded better with Hill — he gave 
Jier some address in Australia. 

"Shall I give your mother your love, Mr. Hill?" she asked. 

"If you like," Hill answered, without looking up from his 
Eible. 

"But don't you want to send your love?" 

"I don't care." 

"Oh, dear, dear me!" 

The dear lady went away almost in tears. She had tried 
so hard, and had shown such a fine courage in that ward full 
of crazed men, and she thought it had all been in vain — that 
she could do nothing for us. It was hateful to let her go away 
like that, deceived and unthanked. Little she guessed what 
joy she had brought us. For all unwittingly she had given us 
the one piece of news for which we pined — we were to go 
Home — and in July! I know that Madame Paulus cheered 
many a sick prisoner in Constantinople, but never did she leave 
behind her two more grateful men than her lunatics of Haidar 
Pasha. 

Before entering the hospital we had arranged with Moise a 
code of signals by which he was to let us know what the doctors 
thought of our malady. If they thought we were shamming, 
he was to shake hands with us on saying good-bye. If they 
were not sure he was to bow to us. If they believed us mad, 
he was to salute. Hitherto he had bowed his way out, and 
left us each day with anxious hearts. But on the morning fol- 
lowing the Board Meeting and the visit of Madame Paulus he 
drew himself up in the doorway, clicked his heels, and saluted 
us both, in turn. 

So far, then, all was well. 



CHAPTER XXIX 

OF hill's terrible month in gumush suyu hospital 

HILL and I braced ourselves for the six weeks of acting 
that lay between us and July. We were under no 
delusions as to the cause of our success so far. Our 
acting had no doubt been good, but we knew quite 
well that by itself it would have availed us little. The de- 
cision of the doctors had been based on our "medical history," 
as edited by the Spook and presented to them in the reports 
of the Commandant, the Pimple, the sentries Bekir and Sabit, 
and the two Turkish doctors of Yozgad. 

We have no desire to injure, by our story, the deservedly high 
professional reputation of Mazhar Osman Bey. We would 
very much regret such a result, and it would indeed be a poor 
return for the unfailing courtesy and the gentlemanly consid- 
eration that was always shown us by him and indeed by nearly 
all the doctors of Haidar Pasha Hospital. For to them we 
were not enemy subjects but patients on the same footing as 
Turkish officers, to be tested for malingering and treated in 
exactly the same way as their fellow countrymen. It is only 
fair to them to say that we attribute our success not so much 
to our acting as to the manner in which, under O'Farrell's 
directions, and with the aid of the Spook, our case was pre- 
sented. 

The evidence Mazher Osman Bey had to consider was the 
following: 

I. — The reports of Major Osman and Captain Suhki Fahri 
of Yozgad. (Chapter XXI.) 

2. — ^The telegraphic and written reports (dictated by the 
Spook) from Kiazim Bey, Commandant of Yozgad, 
in which he stated as a fact that we had been re- 
332 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 333 

garded as "eccentric" by our comrades for two years, 
and that our illnesses had been gradually developing 
throughout our captivity, (Chapter XXII.) 

3. — Our spirituahstic and telepathic record. 

4. — The attempted suicide at Mardeen, which was vouched 
for by the magistrates and police of the town, by the 
hotel-keeper and by a number of independent wit- 
nesses in addition to Moise and the sentries, but 
denied by me, and only very reluctantly admitted by 
Hill. 

5. — The Pimple's diary of our conduct, apparently a straight- 
forward record of events kept by order of his superior 
officer, Kiazim, for the use of tiie doctors, but really 
a record of our acting, edited by the Spook. 

6.^— The answers of the Pimple to questions set him. Owing 
to O'Farrell's help, the Spook had been able to 
foresee every single question that was asked, and the 
Pimple had been thoroughly tutored in his replies. 

7.- — Our mad letters to the Sultan, Enver Pasha, etc, the 
mad drawings of the Island Uprooter, and of the gi- 
gantic aeroplane, and the other documentary evidence 
of insanity found (apparently concealed) in our pos- 
session. 

All this evidence was brought forward by the Turkish au- 
thorities themselves, who had apparently no motive for seek- 
ing to prove us insane. Mazhar Osman Bey was told that the 
English doctor at Yozgad (O'Farrell) had tried to prevent us 
being brought to Constantinople and that he refused to admit 
we were suffering from anything more serious than mild neu- 
rasthenia. This certainly did not look like collusion between 
us and our own medical man. We ourselves strenuously 
claimed to be quite well and contradicted many of the asser- 
tions the Pimple made against us. My resolute denial of the 
hanging and Hill's very reluctant admission of it particularly 
impressed the doctors. So did my apparently inadvertent ad- 
mission of previous incarceration in an asylum under M 

(another suggestion of O'Farrell's), and subsequent denial of 
all knowledge of M . 

The position, so far as Mazhar Osman Bey could see, was 



334 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

that the Turks were trying to prove us mad while we were 
both anxious to be considered sane. He had not the vestige 
of a reason for disbeheving any of the statements made by the 
Pimple and the Turkish officials of Yozgad. For while, in our 
speech with the doctors, we sought to deny the salient points 
in the evidence against us, the whole of our conduct in hos- 
pital was aimed at corroborating the Pimple's story. The fact 
that Hill's behaviour was so absolutely different from mine 
was another point in our favour. The only theory that could 
hold water at all was that we had bribed the Turks, but against 
such a theory was first the large number of people who had 
given evidence against us and second the Commandant's ap- 
parently hostile conduct towards us at Yozgad — Mazhar Os- 
man knew we had been "imprisoned on bread and water" for 
telepathy. 

Only a medical man can decide whether or not the evidence 
of the Turks and our answers in the preliminary examinations 
justified Mazhar Osman Bey in being predisposed to a belief 
in our insanity. We ourselves believed then, and we still be- 
lieve, that so long as we could avoid traps and keep up our 
acting on the lines O'Farrell had dictated, no doctor on earth 
could prove we were malingering. And we had one tremendous 
asset on our side: Mazhar Osman was too busy a man to be 
able to devote much of his time to observing us. We never 
avoided him — indeed I did rather the reverse, and used to rush 
up to him on every possible occasion — but except for what he 
saw of us during his morning visit he had to depend on the 
reports of his subordinates. Had things been otherwise, we 
think we would have been "caught out," but as it was we had 
to deal mainly with men who believed their Chief infallible, 
and who knew of his inclination to consider us mad. That 
knowledge probably affected their judgment and their powers 
of observation. 

Our task was "to keep it up" until the exchange steamer 
arrived. It was a desperate time for both of us. We were 
watched night and day. We knew that a single mistake would 
spoil everything for both. The junior doctors (acting no doubt 
under instructions from Mazhar Osman) set traps for us, 
tested us in various ways, and reported the results. We did 
not take it all lying down. In order to find out what they 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 335 

thought from time to time, and how the wind was blowing, we 
in our turn set traps for the junior doctors.^ 

* I think our traps were on the whole more successful than those 
of the medical men. The most amusing, perhaps, was what we 
called "the chocolate test." Chocolate at this time was practically 
unobtainable in Constantinople. Indeed, anything of that nature 
was immensely expensive. Now one of the junior doctors, who 
had a room in the hospital, had a sweet tooth. Hill and I had 
hoped for this, and had arranged the test before we entered the 
hospital. 

I let it be known in the mad ward that we had a large supply of 
"stores" in the depot. (We had saved them up from parcels which 
arrived during our starvation period at Yozgad.) This aroused 
great enthusiasm amongst the other patients, who suggested they 
should be brought up. They were fetched by Ibrahim, the good- 
natured attendant who happened to be on duty at the time. When 
the case arrived I pretended to change my mind. I refused to 
allow it to be opened, because for all we knew the stores might 
be poisoned. A malingering epileptic, to whom I had promised some 
tea, said the doctor could examine them for us and find out if they 
contained poison or not. This was what we wanted. One of the 
junior doctors was then brought in, and pretended to examine the 
stores. He declared them all fit for human consumption. With 
my customary lavish generosity (generosity was one of my symp- 
toms), I started handing tins of tea, coffee, sugar, etc., to all the 
patients, keeping nothing for myself. (A pound of tea in those 
days cost a thousand piastres — about £9.) The doctor stopped this 
mad act, took charge of the stores, and said he would issue them 
to Hill and myself little by little. He took them to his private room 
upstairs. 

A week later, with the freedom of a lunatic, I burst into his room 
unannounced, and found him with his mouth full of our chocolate. 
He blushed, said he was "testing our chocolate for poispn," and 
asked me if I knew how many tins I had. I said I did not know 
at all. 

"You have two," he said, looking relieved. (We really had ten, 
but he had already eaten eight, I suppose.) "And here they are." 
He handed me two tins, assured me they were not poisoned, and 
told me to give one to Hill. He also gave me a little tea and a tin 
of condensed milk. That was all we ever saw of the stores. I 
pretended to forget about them, but used to make incursions into the 
private room to note the rate at which our junior doctor was .get- 
ting through them. Hill and I were delighted at the success of 
our little plot, for we knew that this man at least would be anything 
but anxious to prove our sanity to his Chief, and as he was more 
often about the ward than any other doctor, the sacrifice was well 
worth while. 

I purposely do not give his name. In the main he was a good 



336 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

The diagnosis of Hill's disease — assuming it to be a genuine 
case and not malingering — was never in any doubt. It was 
acute Religious Melancholia. In my own case the doctors 
began by suspecting General Paralysis of the Insane, a disease 
commonly due to syphilis. I knew the diagnosis was bound to 
be upset by the negative results of the Wassermann tests, 
and did not feel at all comfortable until they began showing 
me off to visiting doctors as a rara avis. What Mazhar Osman 
Bey's final diagnosis was I never discovered, because it was 
written on my medical sheet in technical language, and my 
small Turkish dictionary did not contain the words used; but 
I think from the interest shown in me by students and strange 
doctors, it was something pretty exceptional. I also think that 
for a long time Mazhar Osman Bey was not a little dubious 
about it. Indeed I believe that out of the kindness of his 
heart — for he was a kindly and humane man — he decided to 
risk his professional reputation rather than do me a possible 
injustice, and gave me the benefit of the doubt. 

About Hill, I think none of the real experts were ever in 
two minds. He was quite an ordinary case of acute Religious 
Melancholia. But he went through a terrible month in Gujn- 
ush Suyu Hospital, where the treatment meted out to him by 
the doctors there was such as nearly killed him. To all ap- 
pearances Hill was a genuine melancholic, or he could never 

fellow enough, and in the half-starved state of Constantinople the 
temptation to which he was subjected was very severe, while he was 
very young. But I hope that, like a good Mohammedan, he thor- 
oughly enjoyed the tins of "Pork and Beans," and that he suffered 
no indigestion from the bacon. 

Later, when fresh parcels arrived, we tried the same trick with 
Chouaie Bey, a new doctor whose attitude towards us we wanted 
to know. It failed utterly, I am glad to say, not because he sus- 
pected us, nor yet because his mouth did not water over the dainties, 
but because he was an exceedingly fine man in every way. It was 
only with immense difficulty that I got him to accept a tin of cocoa 
as a gift, and he insisted on repaying us by sending us delicacies 
from his private house. He was also the only doctor amongst 
them all who tried hard to induce me to send a note to my wife and 
relieve her anxiety by saying I was quite well. (I refused, because 
my wife knew this already.) 

We tricked Chouaie Bey in another way — I had kept up the old 
pretence of knowing no French, and had the pleasure of listening 
with a wooden face while he described our diseases to a friend. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 337 

have deceived men like Mazhar Osman Bey, Helmi Bey, 
Chouaie Bey, and our own British doctors, as he did. Yet, 
merely because he was a prisoner of war, these doctors at 
Gumush Su5m jumped to the conclusion that he must be ma- 
lingering, and on this supposition they treated him not as an 
ordinary malingerer is treated, but with a cruelty that was 
unspeakable.^ That they took no trouble to acquaint them- 
selves with the history of his case may be excused on the 
ground that it was ordinary Turkish slackness, though it was 
slackness such as no doctor should be guilty of. But at this 
time Hill was not merely a malingering melancholic. He was 
genuinely ill from a very severe bout of dysentery, and was 
sick almost unto death. The most ordinary microscopic ex- 
amination would have revealed the nature of his complaint. 
Whether the Gumush Suyu men made it or not I do not know. 
But this I know: they showed a callousness and a brutality in 
their treatment of Hill which drew violent expostulations from 
the British patients in the hospital, and for which the doctors 
deserve to be horsewhipped. Whatever their suspicions as to 
the melancholia may have been, they have no excuse for their 

* I learned at Haidar Pasha that Hill's medical history was never 
sent to Gumush Suyu, nor did the Gumush Suyu doctors ask for it, 
although they knew Hill had been two months under Mazhar 
Osman Bey. Hill's transfer was made in obedience to an adminis- 
trative order from the Turkish War Office, without the knowledge 
or concurrence of our own doctors, who were off duty when the 
order arrived. I was sent to Gumush Suyu at the same time as Hill, 
and was subjected to similar treatment. (My temperature on ad- 
mission was 103° due to influenza.) By dint of making a thorough 
nuisance of myself to everybody, I succeeded in getting myself 
sent back to Haidar Pasha after thirty-six hours of Gumush Suyu, 
but failed to get them to send Hill with me. The reason for 
sending me back was stated in a note from the head doctor which 
said that Gumush Suyu hospital had neither the trained staff nor 
the accommodation necessary for mental cases. It amounts to this : 
The bold experimenters at Gumush Suyu were quite ready to 
practise their prentice theories on Hill, who was harmless and 
passive under their treatment as befitted his malady, but they had 
no desire to try their tricks on a lunatic who was active and pos- 
sibly dangerous, like myself. When I pretended to take a violent 
dislike to one of the doctors, and tried to buy a knife from the 
sentry, they thought discretion the better part of valour. This was 
the sole reason why / was a "case for specialists," while Hill was 
not. 



338 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

utter neglect of a man who was obviously in the throes of se- 
vere dysentery; they cannot be pardoned for leaving him for 
days without medicine or proper diet; and they should answer 
in Hell for sending him back by a springless donkey cart to 
Psamatia Camp (the journey took Hill five hours) when he was 
too weak to walk downstairs without assistance. All these 
things they did. Captain Alan Bott, then a prisoner-patient 
in the hospital, protested vigorously, but in vain, against the 
cruelty of that journey. One thing only his protests achieved 
— the donkey cart. Without Captain Bott's assistance Hill 
would have had no conveyance whatsoever, and some idea of 
the man's condition may be gathered from the fact that though 
his normal weight is 12 stone, at this time he weighed less than 
100 lbs. 

It amounts to this: the doctors in charge at Gumush Suyu 
took advantage of Hill's sickness to try to break his spirit by 
maltreatment of what they knew was a genuine disease (dys- 
entery) and by putting his life in danger. No British doctor — 
no doctor of any nationality worthy of the name of doctor — 
however much he suspected a man, would do such a thing. I 
believe a genuine melancholic would have died under their 
hands. Hill's life was saved by the fact that he was not a 
melancholic and by the care taken of him by Captain T. W. 
White, a prisoner-patient in the ward. Hill confided in White, 
who smuggled medicine and milk to him, and helped him in 
many ways. It was not till after the worst of the dysentery 
had been mastered by these means that the Turks began to 
treat him for it. But even with White's help, Hill only just 
got through alive. On reaching Psamatia after his terrible 
journey he nearly collapsed, but he set his teeth and carried on. 
He deceived not only the Turkish and the British doctor^ 

^ Colonel F. E. Baines, I. M.S., the British medical officer who 
saw Hill at Psamatia, at once put in a strong protest in writing 
about Hill's condition and treatment. It stated that Hill was suf- 
fering from dysentery and acute melancholia, and that he was 
dying through neglect, and that he should be sent to England at 
once. It ended with the threat that if Hill did die. Colonel Baines 
would hold the Turkish Government responsible for his death, and 
do his best to bring the responsibility home. The letter was a gal- 
lant challenge to the Turks from a man who was himself a pris- 
oner. It was, of course, a perfectly bona fide expression of the 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 339 

there (both of whom were intensely indignant at the treatment 
to which he had been subjected) but also the medical repre- 
sentatives of the Dutch Embassy at Constantinople,^ and was 
sent back to Gumush Suyu and thence a few days later to 
Haidar Pasha for ''proper treatment by mental specialists" 
and "to await the exchange boat." For all their crue^y the 
Gumush Suyu doctors were fairly outwitted, and in sending 
Hill back for "proper treatment" by mental specialists they 
admitted not only defeat but their own black ignorance. 

Hill and I blame no doctor for suspecting us of malingering. 
Every one of them had a perfect right to his own opinion. We 
expected to be "put through it" and we bear no grudge against 
any of the doctors — and there were plenty of them — who 
tried their legitimate tricks on us. Thus, when Hill was "fast' 
ing," a thing he often did for days at a time, Mazhar Osman 
Bey instructed the attendants to leave his meals standing on 
the table by his bedside, and also drugged him to excite his 
appetite. What such temptation means to a starving man 
(even without the drugging) only those who have themselves 
starved can guess; but it was a fair, a perfectly fair and hon- 
ourable trick. Or again, when Talha Bey offered to provide 
me with "an antitoxin against the poison in my parcels" and 
gave me a couple of ounces of ink to drink, I downed it with 
a smile and said "I liked it, for it tasted powerful" — didn't I, 
Talha? (And I overheard Talha tell a friend about the "ex- 
periment" afterwards, and express his sorrow for doing it, like 
the good-hearted fellow he was.) These, and many things like 
them, were legitimate tests enough, and all "in the game." But 

Colonel's professional opinion, and is a worthy example of the fear- 
less way in which our medical men sought to do their duty. That 
Colonel Baines, too, was deceived is no reflection upon him. An- 
other British doctor, also deceived, characterized Hill's performance 
afterwards as "the most wonderful case of malingering he had 
ever heard of." 

^ The Embassy report was sent to my parents by the India Office 
in their letter M.35342 of October 30th, igi8, and is as follows: 

"14th August, Psamatia. We found removed to Psamatia 2nd 
Lieut. C. W. Hill, R.F.C., mentioned in our first report on Gumush 
Suyu Hospital. As he is not taking any food and his insanity 
growing worse every day, we advised to send him back to Eng- 
land instantly together with Lieut. Jones of Haidar Pasha Hos-- 
pital or to put him under special treatment." 



340 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

to withhold medicine from a man in Hill's state, to give him 
wrong diet, to turn him out of hospital on that wicked journey 
and to put his life in danger, as those disgraces to their pro- 
fession undoubtedly did at Gumush Suyu — that was unfair and 
unpardonable. Hill is twelve stone again to-day. He is not 
a vindictive man, but I think it might be advisable for the 
Gumush Suyu doctors who "treated" him to keep out of his 
reach. 

Had we known that our acting was to be kept up not for 
six weeks but for six months, I think we would have lain down 
and died. The delay was not due to any mistake on our part, 
but to a series of postponements of the arrival of the exchange 
ships, due, I believe, to Lord Newton's inability to obtain from 
the Germans a satisfactory "safe conduct" for the voyage. No 
doubt the British authorities were right to hold back until the 
safety of the ship was assured, but there was not a prisoner 
of war in Turkey, sound or sick, who would not have voted 
cheerfully for running the gauntlet of the whole German Fleet. 

To Hill and myself the wait seemed interminable. Each 
postponement was just short enough to encourage us to "carry 
on," and somehow or another carry on we did. Indeed we had 
no choice. We dared not confess we were malingering, because 
it would have thrown added suspicion on any genuine cases of 
madness which might crop up amongst our fellow prisoners, 
and the one point in which O'Farrell had neglected to instruct 
us was how to "get better" without rousing suspicion. But 
even had we known how to "recover" I think we would still 
have kept it up, for Freedom was our lode-star. 

It would be easy to fill another volume with the things we 
saw and did and suffered during those six months in the mad 
wards at Haidar Pasha. My own task was hard enough. I 
had to be ready to "rave" at a moment's notice whenever any- 
one cared to bring up one of my half-dozen fixed delusions; 
I had to suspect poison in my food ; get up at all times of the 
night to write the "History of My Persecution by the English" 
and my "Scheme for the Abolition of England"; form violent 
hatreds (Jacques, the unhappy Jew chemist at Haidar Pasha, 
used to flee from me in terror of his life), and equally violent 
friendships; be grandiose; sleep in any odd corner rather than 
in my bed; run away at intervals; be "sleepless" for a week 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 341 

at a time; invent mad plans and do mad things without end. 
I refused to answer to my own name and became either "Hassan 
oghlou Ahmed" (Hassan's lad Ahmed) or 'Ahmed Hamdi 
Pasha," as the whim seized me. I wore a most disreputable 
fez, boasted of being a Turk, cursed the English, and ran 
away in terror from every Englishman who happened along. 
All the time I talked nothing but Turkish and to all appear- 
ance lived for nothing but to become a Turkish officer. The 
biggest criminal in Eastern Europe — Enver Pasha — was my 
"hero," and I fixed a photograph of him above my bed.^ And 
every minute of the day or night I had to be ready for a trap, 
and have an answer pat on my tongue for any question that 
might be asked. Yesl I had a hard task and a wearing one. 
But hard as my task was it was nothing — it was recreation 
— compared to what Hill had to do. For all those terrible six 
months my companion in misery sat huddled up on his bed, 
motionless for hours at a time, crying if he was spoken to, 
starving ("fasting" he called it) for long periods, reading his 
Bible or his Prayer Book until his eyes gave out (as they used 
to do very badly towards the end), then burying his head on 
his knees, presenting to all comers a face of utter misery and 
desolation, and speaking not at all except to pray. By the end 
he had read through the Bible seven times, ai^d could (and did) 
recite every Prayer in the Prayer Book by heart. To him one 
day was exactly like another. The monotony of it was dreadful 
and his self-denial in the matter of food was extraordinary. 
Partly from this self-imposed starvation and partly from dysen- 
tery, 'flu' and maltreatment in Gumush Suyu hospital, he lost 
over five stone in weight. His emaciation was terrible to look 
upon, for he became a living skeleton; yet still he kept up his 
acting and his courage. It was the most wonderful exhibition 
of endurance, of the mastery of the mind over the body, I have 

* There were other portraits of Enver in the hospital, and when 
his Cabinet fell, about a month before the armistice, they were all 
taken down — except mine. On that occasion a Pasha — named, I 
think, Suliman Numan Pasha — came to the hospital, took down a 
life-size portrait of Enver, put his foot through it and danced on 
the fragments. His object was to try to dissociate himself from 
his former chief, and keep his job; but I believe he too "crashed." 
Still, to me his object did not matter. How I secretly longed to 
join him in his dance 1 



342 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

ever seen. Many a time I have returned of an evening to the 
ward, worn out by the unending strain of my own heartbreak- 
ing foolery, and ready to throw up the sponge. Always I found 
Hill resolutely sitting in that same forlorn, woe-begone atti- 
tude in which I had left him hours before, and always the sight 
of him there renewed my waning courage and steadied me to 
face at least "one more day of it." 

But our doings and sufferings as madmen, and the adven- 
tures, grave and gay, through which we passed when, under the 
cloak of insanity, we collected information of military and 
political interest in the hope that we would reach England be- 
fore the end of the war — these things, and what we learned of 
the Turks and the Turkish character, are another story. I 
must return to the Spook and what happened at Yozgad after 
our departure. 



CHAPTER XXX 

IN WHICH WE AEE REPATRIATED AS LUNATICS 

AS has already been told, the War Office promised Moi'se 
his commission as soon as we reached Constantinople. 
He asked for, and obtained, a month's leave in order 
to return to Yozgad, nominally to collect his kit and 
settle his affairs there, really to find the treasure. He said 
good-bye to us about the middle of May. I did not see him 
again until July. 

Hill was then doing his month's "penal servitude" at Gumush 
Suyu, and I was alone at Haidar Pasha. Moi'se took me out 
into the garden, where I was allowed to go with a responsible 
escort. The Spook had long since warned him never to talk 
to me about private matters in the presence of others. 

"Oh, Jones," he said as soon as we were alone, "I am dis- 
tressed to see you like this. Why, I wonder, is the Spook still 
keeping you under control?" 

'T don't know," I said. 

"Where is Hill?" 

"He's dead," I said. (A visiting doctor had told me this 
lie, to see how I would take it, I suppose. I replied, "it was 
a good job, because Hill was always bothering me to pray with 
him," so he got "no change." But as Hill had been very ill 
when last I saw him I was not sure whether to believe the 
story or not, and spent several days in secret misery before 
discovering the truth.) 

Poor little Moise wept. 

"Oh!" he cried. "Everything is going wrong! The third 
clue is lost! Price found it — he dug it up in the garden as 
the Spook said — and he kept the gold lira (he showed it to 
me), but alas! he dropped the paper of instructions some- 
where." 

343 



344 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR •: 

"So he found it all right?" I asked. 

"Oh, yes. He found it. In a tin, just like the other clues. 
He told me it was written in characters that looked like Rus- 
sian. But he lost it again. I spent days and days looking 
for it. I spent two days in the carpenter's shop at Posh Castle, 
searching through the shavings and rubbish. Price helped me. 
Then the Cook and I looked through all the dust-bins, and 
went carefully over the rubbish dump under the bridge. But 
it was gone 1 Gone! And now Hill is dead!" 

I began to twist my button. 

"Sir?" said Moise. 

"Hill is not dead," said the Spook. "Jones thinks he is be- 
cause the doctor said so, but Hill is alive, in Gumush Suyu hos- 
pital." 

"Oh, thank you, Sir!" said Moise. "And may we still find 
the treasure? Is the promise for the future still secure?" 

"Everything's all right," said the Spook, "and all is my 
doing. I am punishing the Commandant — that is why I made 
Price lose the paper." 

"What are you punishing him for, Sir?" asked Moi'se. 

"For greed and disobedience." 

"I know! " the Pimple cried. "I thought it might be that as 
soon as I heard he had disobeyed instructions. I suppose you 
are referring to his digging?" 

"Yes," said the Spook. "Tell Jones about it, I'm busy." 

I let go of the button and the Pimple told me of the com- 
munication which had just been received. 

"You know," he said, "as soon as the Commandant got my 
letter telling him the position of the third clue, he decided to 
dig for it without waiting for me. The letter said he was to 
wait for me, by the Spook's orders, but he sent the Cook to 
dig at once. The Cook pretended to the prisoners in Posh 
Castle that he was making a drain, and he dug very hard, but 
he found nothing." 

(I could imagine the delight with which Doc, Price, and 
Matthews had watched the Cook dig!) 

"Has anything else happened at Yozgad?" I asked. I was 
wondering if the Kastamouni Incorrigibles had escaped yet. 

"The Commandant is being ver^ kind to the camp," Moise 
said. "And they are enjoying much hunting and freedom. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 345 

Miller sends his love to you. O'Farrell is very angry because 
you are in a madhouse, and says you have nothing but neuras- 
thenia, if that. The Dutch Embassy wrote to Maule asking for 
the cause of your illnesses, and a short history of them, and 
Maule has replied to them. Would you like to know what 
he said?" 

''Very much," I said. 

Here is the letter — the italics are my own, and I have added 
some footnotes. 



*'To His Excellency, the Netherlands Ambassador. 

"YozGAD, 31. 5.18. 
"Sir, 

"With reference to your No. 2396 S.P., dated 15th May, 
19 1 8, I have the honour to report that Lt. Hill and Lt. Jones 
were placed in arrest by the Commandant on March 7th, 1918, 
jor a breach of the regulations} They were confined in a 
two-storeyed house formerly occupied by Colonel Chitty's mess 
and now Lt.-Col. Moore's mess. They had the run of the 
house but were not allowed to leave it, except to go for a 
walk ij they "wished to,^ but I believe they only once took ad- 
vantage of this. They were allowed to take up all their be- 
longings but were allowed no orderly. Up to March ijth^ 
their meals were sent over from the School House* opposite, 
but after that date they cooked for themselves. After March 
26th ^ when they were allowed to see him, they were visited 
every day by Captain O'Farrell, R.A.M.C. They were also 
seen by the Chaplain on four occasions. They made no com- 
plaint as to their treatment. / saw Lt. Hill and Lt. Jones on 

* A mistake. The charge on which we were convicted was "com- 
munication by telepathy." See Major Gilchrist's account of the 
trial, p. 125, Chapter X. There is nothing about "telepathy" in 
the Turkish Regulations. 

' The original sentence was "no walks." Later the Commandant 
gave it out he would allow us only the regulation number of walks 
— one a week. Really, of course, we could have had as many as we 
pleased. We had three altogether, including the two treasure-hunts. 

' A mistake. The correct date is March 20th. 

* "School House" was another name for Posh Castle. 
•A mistake. The correct date is April 2nd. 



346 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

the morning of March 'jth ^ and enquired into the case, and as 
in my opinion the Commandant was perfectly justified in his 
action^ I took no steps in the matter? They both then ap- 
peared to be perfectly sane. For the last year both these of- 
ficers have been going in strongly for mental telepathy, and I 
believe after being placed in arrest they continued to do so. 

"On April $th * the Commandant sent to inform me they 
were released, but as far as I know they never left the house 
though free to do so. Those officers who went to see them came 
away with the impression that they would rather not be visited, 
and on April 24th ^ I found a notice ^ to this effect pinned to 
their front door, presumably placed there by them. The gen- 
eral impression of the camp was that they felt aggrieved at 
not being looked upon as martyrs? 

"On April 26th Lt. Hill and Lt. Jones left for Constantinople 
and on April 2 7th the Commandant sent to inform ms ^ that 
having come to the conclusion that they had been mentally af- 
fected by their confinement for two years as Prisoners of War 
he had reported the case to Constantinople and had received 
orders to send them there. 

''{Signed) N. S. Maule, 

"Lt.-Col." 

"How did you come to see the letter?" I asked. 

"Col. Maule showed it to the Commandant," said the 
Pimple, "and the Commandant desires to thank the Spook 
for controlling Maule into writing in these terms, and for 
supporting his action in imprisoning the mediums. Kia^im 
and Maule are now on a more friendly footing." 

* The interview is described in Chapter XL, p. 129. 
^Compare Major Gilchrist's psean of praise, Chapter XI, at end, 

and Major Peel's laudatory comment. 

'We thought the Colonel should have reported our imprisonment 
and the charge against us, in his monthly letter, whether he agreed 
with the Commandant or not. 

*By the Spook's instruction. See Chapter XIX., p. 221. 

'We left the house on April 22nd. The notice appears to have 
remained. 

' In Chapter XIX., p. 227, the notice is quoted. 

^"Martyrs." The camp was a bit wide of the mark, as usual. 

* This was also by the Spook's orders. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 347 

"Splendid!" I said. "Now tell me about yourself." 

"I obey the Spook," said the Pimple. "I am living very 
austerely. I do not even go to the theatre or the cinema. All 
my leave I have been studying languages as ordered by the 
Control. I am studying German, Spanish, and Arabic. I 
know already French and Turkish, also Hebrew and some 
English. Do you think that is enough?" 

"I don't know," I said doubtfully. "The Incas of Peru were 
great magicians and some of the indigenous American lan- 
guages might help. I could teach you some Choctaw later on; 
there's a lot of Choctaw incantations you should learn some 
day." 

"What's Choctaw like?" Moise asked. 

"Hwch goch a chwech berchill cochion bychain bach" I 
said. (Which is "Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper," 
in Welsh.) ^ 

"Mon Dieul" said Moi'se. "But tell me, how can I study 
the Art of Government?" 

"Read Aristotle's Politics and Plato's Republic" I said. 

Then I began twisting my button. 

"Sir?" said Moi'se. 

"Good advice," said the Spook. "But don't forget Punch — 
add Punch to the list." 

I let go the button again. 

"The Spook was talking," Moi'se explained. "He said to 
read Punch. But surely that is what you call a 'comic 
paper'?" 

"I'm not sure," I sighed wearily. "I know all our British 
Statesmen read it. It seems to be part of their work." 

"I see," said the Pimple. "Now, when do you think we 
can try the Four Point Receiver?" 

"If Hill were only alive " I began. 

"But he is! The Spook told me he is in the Gumush Suyn 
hospital. The doctor told you a lie." 

"Good! " I cried. "We'll try it when Hill comes back." But 
when some three weeks later the Gumush Suyu doctors tired 
of their experimenting and Hill did come back, he was too 
weak to walk a hundred yards. 

'Literally, "A red sow and six very small red porklings." 



348 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

Moi'se had an uncle who was a patient — a malingering one 
— in the eye ward of Haidar Pasha; he was trying to get his 
discharge. The Pimple used to come and see him every visit- 
ing day (Friday). By this time I had acquired the run of 
the hospital. It was a simple matter to meet Moi'se "accident- 
ally" in the corridor and to get him to take me into the garden. 
On one of these occasions the Spook said: 

"I am going to punish the Commandant still more." 

"What for, Sir?" the Pimple asked. 

"For digging without orders and trying to find the treasure 
before you got back so as to cheat you of your share." 

"The devil!" said the Pimple. "I never before realized 
that that was his object." 

"Of course it was," said the Spook. 

"Punish him, Sir!" Moise cried. "Punish him hard, the 
dirty pig! Here am I, suffering at the military school, while 
he rolls in luxury at Yozgad! Oh, Sir, punish Mm!" 

"I will," said the Spook. 

About the middle of August Moise came again. He was 
much excited, for he had just been to the War Office, and 
learned some news through a friend there. 

"There has been a big escape from Yozgad," he told me; 
"twenty-six officers have run away. Only a few have been 
caught so far." 

The Kastamouni Incorrigibles! — I thought to myself. I 
could have shouted with joy. 

"I've seen the telegrams," Moi'se went on, "and neither 
Kiazim nor the War Office can make out how they got away. 
But / know. The Spook did it! This must be the Spook's at- 
tempt to get Kiazim punished, but I fear it cannot succeed." 

"Why not?" I asked. 

"Because the Commandant has much influence at Head- 
quarters, and it will all be hushed up." 

The Pimple did no{ come back again until well on in Sep- 
tember — ^he could not get away from his training school. In 
the interval Hill came back from Gumush Suyu and we carried 
on as usual. 

Suddenly, for no reason at all as far as we could see, the 
whole atmosphere of the hospital seemed to change towards 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 349 

us. Turkish officers among the patients, who had always been 
friendly, suddenly began to cold shoulder me. The attendants 
seemed to be watching us with added care. I was forbidden 
to go into the garden at all, whether with or without an at- 
tendant, and as I had not been detected in an escape ^ for 
some time previously I could not understand it. A Turkish 
patient in a ward upstairs hung about me for three or four 
days, pretending to be very friendly towards me, but obviously 
putting me through my paces. He said he was an Armenian, 
and informed me I "was very clever but would have to be 
careful." I replied, like a good G.P., that I "was the cleverest 
man in the world." That evening, by sheer good luck, I saw 
this man leaving the hospital for a stroll. He was dressed in 
the uniform of a Turkish doctor! Next day he was back in 
hospital, dressed as a patient. "Keep it up," he said to me, 
"always keep it up." (He should have followed his own ad- 
vice, I thought to myself, and not gone for that stroll.) "I 
want to see you get away and I think you'll do it. Flatter 
them — bribe them, if you have the money." 

I stared at him in astonishment, as if I did not understand. 

"I'm an Armenian," he said, "and I love the English." 

"You what?" I cried. 

"I love the English," he repeated. 

"Then, by God, I'll kill you!" I shouted, and rushed up 

* Dtiring our air-raids on Constantinople, which usually took place 
at night, I used to spot the general direction of gun-flashes, etc. 
For the purpose of accurately marking down these anti-aircraft 
gun and mitrailleuse positions (in which I was fairly successful), 
and especially in the hope of locating a concealed munitions fac- 
tory which several patients told me was hidden near 'Katikeoy' (in 
which I failed), I frequently broke out of hospital. I usually got 
back without my absence being observed. Once I was nearly shot 
(by the sentry guarding a mitrailleuse concealed in the English 
cemetery on which I stumbled quite accidentally). Three times_ I 
was captured outside, twice by sentries and once by the gendarmerie. 
Once I escaped again from my captors, by diverting their attention 
with a tin of jam — I told them it was a bomb to bomb the English — 
on the other two occasions I was brought back to hospital, and each 
time used the same trick — raved and stormed, and said I must kill 
Baylay. On both these occasions the doctors drugged me, with 
trional and morphia, to quieten my nerves and put me to sleep. 
They ascribed my wanderings to my madness. So far as I know 
my real object was never suspected. 



350 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

to my friend Nabi Chaoush, the cafe-jee, bellowing for the 
Joan of his knife.^ 

My friendly doctor-patient bolted, and I never saw him 
again. To tMs day I do not know whether it was an official 
test or not. 

Particularly unwelcome was the sudden attention of the ad- 
ministrative officers of the hospital, who had never before taken 
any notice of us. The Insabit Zabut (an assistant superin- 
tendent) was particularly assiduous. He set a series of traps 
with "poisoned parcels" and "money from the English," etc., 
to see how I would behave. Three times he came into the ward 
and searched my bed. One day, when I was in the bath, I 
spotted his orderly watching me through a hole in the roof. 

The "History of My Persecution by the English" (I had' 
written about thirty large note-books full by this time) dis- 
appeared for twenty-four hours. I wished joy to whomsoever 
had taken it because it was all unutterable nonsense specially 
written for the eyes of the Turk. But the action showed re^ 
newed suspicion on somebody's part. 

So far as I could make out — I could not consult Hill for 
reasons that will appear — the trouble was not with our own 
doctors of the mental ward. Except that one of the juniors 
cut down my diet for a few days, their attitude was much as 
usual. It was the attendants, the administrative authorities, 
the doctors belonging to other wards, and the other patients, 
who had altered their attitude. Noticing that whenever I 
entered our ward animated conversations amongst the other 
patients came to a sudden stop, I crept out one evening along 
a ledge which ran ' round the outside of the hospital, and 
listened under the open window. They were discussing plans 
for watching us and catching us outl 

I was in one way relieved to hear this, because I had begun 

*This knife for which I bellowed had a history which Nabi 
never tired of relating to me. According to him, H.M. King George 
V. had been the original owner. When our King was serving his 
country in the Navy, his ship came to Rhodes. A shoot was or- 
ganized. Nabi was one of the beaters, and at the end of the day 
he asked that, instead of being paid, he should be given a memento 
of the occasion which he could keep. He got the knife — and I was 
perfectly safe in bellowing for it, because Nabi is so delightfully 
proud of the gift that he will never let it out of his possession. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 351 

to fear that I was imagining things and that perhaps I was 
going really mad. I wondered if Hill had noticed anything, but 
in the circumstances any attempt at commxmicating was toa 
dangerous. 

It was not till long afterwards, on one of the rare occasions 
when we managed a brief conversation in the garden, that I 
learnt what Hill had suffered during this period. He, too, had 
noticed the conversations amongst the patients which ceased 
at my entry, but as he knew very little Turkish he could not 
understand what was said. One phrase, however, he did un- 
derstand, and its constant repetition got on his nerves. He 
told me they were everlastingly talking about "a letter from 
Yozgad." But though he correctly repeated the phrase to me 
in Turkish, I felt certain he must have misunderstood what 
was said, and that what he had heard was something else, 
similar in sound, which he had construed into Turkish words 
he knew. For I could not imagine who at Yozgad could write 
a letter which would get us into trouble. Kiazim Bey would 
not dare to do so for he himself was too seriously implicated. 
The Cook, who still believed in the Spook, was equally un- 
likely. The Pimple was not in Yozgad, but in Constantinople. 
And nobody else amongst the Turks knew anything. I said 
so to Hill, but he stuck to it that the phrase he had heard so 
often was "a letter from Yozgad" and nothing else. And in 
the light of later knowledge I believe he was right. 

Before I proceed to what we now believe is the explanation 
of this exceptionally bad spell, let me quote Hill's account of 
one of his experiences about this time. It occurred during the 
latter half of August, when he returned from Gumush Suyii, 
and I believe the persons responsible were the administrative 
authorities of Haidar Pasha, and not the doctors of the mental 
ward, who were absent at the time. 

After describing how he was taken to the depot he says: 

"A man came and told me to 'come along.' He started off 
along the outside of the building at about three times the 
speed I could go, making for the entrance to the bath and 
taking no heed as to whether I followed or not. I wandered 
along behind until he was out of sight round the comer, and 
then turned at right angles, sat down behind a rose-bush and 
read the Bible. 



352 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

"He found me a few minutes later and we proceeded to 
the bath together at my maximum speed. Having undressed, 
I was shown the door of the bathroom and told to go in. I 
went in and started pouring water over myself. A few minutes 
later the man and a still filthier Turk came in and had a look 
at me. They muttered something to each other and went out 
again. The filthier one came back with a womout, blunt and 
rusty razor, and a strop. He looked at me and proceeded to 
strop the razor. I began to feel uneasy. 

"He then made me soap my face and head, and proceeded to 
shave both, if it can be called a 'shave.' It was more like 
tearing out by the roots. My head was sore for a week after- 
wards. 

"After shaving all the hair I possessed except my eyebrows, 
he left me. I sat for about half an hour, and then wandered 
out, with nothing on. I was met in the outer room by the 
first man, who sent me back into the bath. I stayed there 
reading the Bible for about a quarter of an hour, and then 
wandered out again with the same result. So I settled down and 
read the Bible until it was too dark to see, and then sat in 
my usual position with my head in my hands. 

"All this time there was a man in the bathroom who was 
apparently neglected like myself, but probably there to watch 
me. Many others came and went. 

"About 8.30 p. m.^ a man brought in some pyjamas for 
me and for some Turkish soldiers who had collected in the 
bathroom. We were all herded together and taken outside. 
At the door the man in charge took my bundle of toilet things 
from me and went through the contents. He threw the things 
into the comer, one by one, except a piece of very inferior 
soap, which he gave me. This was stolen from me by someone 
else during the night. 

"We were taken along the passage, past the ward Jones and 
I were in before, and to the other side of the hospital. Here 
most of the patients were put into a ward. I and the man 
who had been with me all the time in the bathroom were kept 
waiting while the orderly who brought us had a confab with 
another at the ward. After which we were taken back to the 
bath! 

* Hill entered the bath at 3.30 — five hours earlier. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 353 

"After a short time we were taken back to the ward again. 
I stayed there all night. I was not given any food. . . ." 

Even though the bathroom was fairly warm^ (65° to 75° 
Fahrenheit I should guess), over five hours naked on the 
marble floor was a pretty severe ordeal for a man who was just 
getting over a bad bout of dysentery and was too weak to walk 
without difficulty. At this period Hill was so emaciated that 
he could not bear to cross one leg over the other in bed for 
any length of time because his shinbones felt so sharp. ^ 

The object of the Turks seems to have been to see if th^ 
could force a complaint out of Hill or get him to show any 
interest in his own treatment or his surroundings. He was 
led three times past the ward I was in, probably as a test to 
see if he would recognize it and come to me for help in his 
misery. But such was the iron resolution of the man that, 
though ready to drop from weakness, he managed to appear 
quite heedless of everything except his Bible. 

Of this period Hill has told me since that worse than all 
the physical sufferings which he had to undergo — and they were 
many — was the mental agony of knowing that, with the ex- 
change in sight, after all our months of hard work, we were 
under a darker cloud of suspicion than ever; and for no ap- 
parent reason except this mysterious "letter from Yozgad." 
What that letter was we never knew and do not know to this 
day. But that such a letter came we have now no doubt. 
The author was probably Kiazim Bey's superior officer, and the 
contents may be guessed from the following story of what hap- 
pened at Yozgad, which we learned after our release. 

The "Big Escape" from Yozgad took place on August 7th, 
1918. Kiazim Bey at once retaliated on those who were left 
behind in the camp by cancelling all privileges of' every de- 
scription. He locked up the prisoners in their respective houses 
and gardens. A Turkish official, superior in rank to Kiazim 
Bey, was sent from Angora to investigate the circumstances 
of the escape. To him the camp complained of their treat- 
ment and endeavoured to secure Kiazim's dismissal by means 
of a series of charges of peculation, embezzlement of money 

*It was a "Turkish" bath, but not well heated at this time be- 
cause of the scarcity and high price of wood. It had, however, a 
glass roof, which helped to keep up the temperature. 



354 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

and parcels, and so on. But Kiazim was a wily Oriental and > 
Jiad covered his tracks well. These charges were hard to 
prove, and he looked like getting off. As a makeweight there 
was added proof of Kiazim's complicity with Hill and myself. 
One of the three negatives of the treasure-hunt, to procure 
which Hill and I had taken so much trouble and so many 
risks, was handed over to Kiazim's superior.^ The negative 
showed me standing with my arms raised over the fire in the 
"incantation," and round me the carefully posed and clearly 
recognizable figures of the Pimple, the Cook and Kiazim Bey. 
Together with this damning photograph the Turkish authori- 
ties were given some sort of a summary of our seances. To 
make assurances doubly sure the investigating official got theij 
negative enlarged. Kiazim' was recognised beyond doubt, i 
placed under arrest, and ordered to be tried by court-martial. 1 1 
Thus the camp revenged themselves on Kiazim Bey and won!' 
back some of their lost comfort. 

This explains the "letter from Yozgad" and our nerve-rack- , 
ing experience towards the end of our stay in Haidar Pasha. I 
It looks to us as if Kiazim's superior officer reported to the * 
War Office, and the War Office asked the administrative au- 
thorities of Haidar Pasha about us. That we still managed 
to deceive everybody I can explain only on the assumption 
that the specialists were by this time firmly convince}! of our 
insanity. The opinion of experts like Mazhar Osman, Chouaie, 
and Helmi Beys, supported as it was by that of many junior 
specialists like Ihsan, Talha, Riza, and Shezo-Nafiz, and by 
the whole Exchange Board of doctors, had already been given 
in our favour and Was not lightly to be set aside. So the ad- 
ministrative authorities appear to have contented themselves 
with a few experiments "on the quiet" at our expense. At 
any rate, Hill and I got off with some quite undeserved dis- 
comfort and a very bad scare. 

The surrender of our "evidence" to the Turks was due to a 
misunderstanding of our wishes. Colonel Maule explained 
the matter to me after oiu: release, when I grumbled that the 

* A second of the three negatives was unfortunately lost by my 
friend, Captain Arthur Hickman, who was kindly bringing it back 
to England for me. This accounts for the fact that only one of 
,the three photographs appears in this book. * 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 355 

camp had come very near to blowing us up in the mine we had 
so laboriously laid for Kiazim Bey. The Jacts were these: 
When Hill and I left Yozgad we had given instructions to Mat- 
thews as to the circumstances under which our "proof" was 
to be used. Once we had got clear of Turkey, we told him, 
the camp might make use of it in any way it chose, and we 
pointed out that it might then prove a useful weapon for all 
sorts of purposes. But so long as we remained in the grip of 
the Turks it was not to be used on behalf of the camp except 
to prevent suffering jrom our actions, a circumstance which, 
was not likely to occur except in the improbable event of 
Kiazim seeing through our plan and realizing we had been 
duping him all along, when we would be "in the soup" even 
more than the others. The threat of exposure which Matthews 
would be in a position to make might then save both ourselves 
and the camp from ill-treatment, and insure Kiazim's silence 
and good behaviour. Never for a moment did we contemplate 
sacrificing ourselves or our scheme to save our comrades from 
discomfort caused by the actions of others. 

Matthews knew this quite well, and had he remained in 
Yozgad the photograph and the summary of our papers would 
never have been given up to the Turks. But unfortunately 
for us, Matthews was one of the twenty-six who attempted 
escape, and before he had been recaptured or could interfere 
on our behalf the damage had been done. Some time before 
his escape Matthews (with our full permission, of course) had 
told our story and shown our papers to the new Senior Officer 
of the camp, who had taken Colonel Maule's place on the 
arrival of the Kastamouni party in April. In telling it he had 
emphasized the fact that the camp had now a grip on Kiazim. 
Unfortunately for us the new S.O. misunderstood. He got it 
into his head that it was our wish the evidence should be used 
in any serious emergency. Himself one of the "Kastamouni 
Incorrigibles," with strong anti-parole views, he fostered and 
aided every reasonable plan of escape, and nothing could have 
been further from his mind than to put obstacles in our way. 
He may have thought, as a good many people in Yozgad 
thought,, that we were already safe in England. Be that as it 
may, it is only just to an officer for whom every prisoner in 
Turkey had a profound respect to say that in using our evi- 



356 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

iience he fully believed that he was carrying out our wishes. 
Indeed, now that it is all over, Hill and I take it as a high com- 
pliment that he should have thought us capable of such disin- 
terested action, and much regret the necessity of having to 
confess that he was quite wrong. 

We saw the Pimple only once more. He came to the hos- 
pital late in September to enquire of the Spook how much 
longer his unpleasant military training was likely to continue, 
when we would proceed with the treasure-hunt, and when he 
might expect to begin his career as Ruler of the World. He 
also wanted to know if the Spook really intended us to be sent 
to England as exchanged prisoners, and, if so, why. 

The Spook explained that the strain of being under control 
for so long had been very severe on the mediums, and he had 
therefore '^controlled" the Haidar Pasha doctors to give us 
a thorough holiday by sending us to England. The treasure- 
hunt was temporarily shelved on account of the disobedience 
and greed of the ''double-faced Superior" (Kiazim). But it 
would not be for long. Very soon we would be back in Con- 
stantinople, possibly in the guise of Red Cross officers, with 
our health re-established, and ready to begin a new series of 
experiments and discoveries. Until we came Moise was to 
continue to be honest, to live austerely, and to do his duty; 
for this was his training for the glorious future that awaited 
him. 

The Pimple shook hands with me many times over. He 
walked off at last, his head high, and his eye bright with the 
vision of his coming omnipotence. As I watched his cocksure 
little figure striding out of the hospital gates for the last time — 
the Spook had told him not to come back — I felt inclined to call 
after him that he had far to go, and that his training would be 
long — very long — before he could become Ruler of the World. 
But I did not. I went back to the ward and Hill, and that was 
the last I saw of the Pimple. 

Hill left Haidar Pasha on October loth to join the sick who 
were collecting for repatriation at Smyrna. I remained behind 
— the hospital authorities explained to the Dutch Embassy, 
that I "would commit suicide if placed among the English" — • 
and finally reached Smyrna just too late to catch the first ex- 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 357 

change ship, by which Hill travelled, but I got the second ex- 
change ship a few days later, and we met again in a hotel in 
Alexandria. 

The armistice with Turkey had just been signed. We had 
reached British soil perhaps a fortnight ahead of the "healthy" 
prisoners. 

We shook hands. 

"We've been through a good deal, old chap, and for very 
little," I said, with a smile, 

"Never mind," Hill answered, "we did our best. It wasn't 
our fault we had to wait so long for the boat, and nobody 
could tell the armistice would come like this. Come out on 
the beach." 

We went for a stroll together. It was good to be free again. 

Amongst the repatriated sick on the transport which carried 
us from Port Said to Taranto was Colonel Maule. With him 
I discussed many things, including the surrender of our "evi- 
dence" to the Turks, He put the matter in a nutshell. 

"You ought to have put your instructions to Matthews in 
writing," he said. "Indeed, for anyone with a scheme half so 
complicated as yours, even writing is hardly good enough. 
My successor did what he thought you wanted, and what prac- 
tically the whole camp, including myself, thought you wanted." 

At which, when I told him, Hill growled. "They should 
have known us two better than to think we wanted that." 

"Why?" I asked. 

He played the Scot and answered my question with three 
more, 

"Weren't we prisoners of war?" said he, a trifle bitterly. 
"Aren't we all selfish? Can you name a single prisoner who is 
an altruist?" 

I knew what was the matter. Our sufferings at Haidar 
Pasha were still fresh. Hill was thinking, perhaps, of the fail- 
ure of our kidnapping scheme and of the various unintentional 
indiscretions by our comrades which had made our path so 
hard to travel. I left him alone, and walked forward to where 
I could see the fast approaching shores of Italy. 

In a little while he was beside me again. 

"I was wrong," he said, in his quiet tones. "I had no right 



358 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

to say that. There were Mathews, and Doc., and that gen- 
erous soul whom we shall never see again " He paused, 

and for a space stood looking over the sea in silence. I knew 
the name he had not the heart to utter. Twelve prisoners 
had died at Yozgad since we left there in April, Amongst the 
dead were men we loved, and one to whose imselfish friendship 
we owe more than we can tell. For while we lay in hospital 
at Constantinople, Lieutenant E. J. Price, R.N., had solved the 
eternal problem. 

Hill's back was half turned to me, so that I could not see his 
face. '^Yes, I was quite wrong," he repeated. "There were 
those three, and many more — ^many who wanted to help if they 
had known how." 

Something in his voice moved me strangely. I thought of 
those he had named, and of the many more who had wanted to 
help. I thought of all this man beside me had endured in our 
struggle for freedom, of his uncomplaining patience in the face 
of trials and disappointments, of his resolute courage that 
neither starvation, nor sickness, nor ill-treatment could break, 
and of his unending loyalty to myself through it all; and then 
my mind turned to a lonely grave in the bare Anatolian hills, 
and what the man who lay there had done for both of us. 

"For me," I said gently, "our hardships have been worth 
while. I have found many Treasures." 

Hill understood. 

"We have indeed been blessed in our friends," he said. 



POSTSCRIPT 

WHAT THE PIMPLE THINKS OF IT ALL — THREE LETTERS 

I have been asked to add what has become of our three con- 
verts to spiritualism — the Pimple, the Cook and Kiazim Bey. 
All I know is contained in three letters from Moise — so far 
unanswered. Their chief interest lies, not so much in the news 
they contain, as the attitude of mind they reveal. It is an at- 
titude common to many Spiritualists — a refusal to look facts 
in the face. UntU I read them I never could understand how 
Sir Oliver Lodge and others like him could go on believing in 
mediums, such as Eusapia Palladino, who had already been de- 
tected in fraud. But now I see that faith — even a faith in- 
duced by fraud — is the most gloriously irrational and invin- 
cible phenomenon in all experience, and that, as Hill said. 
"True Believers remain True Believers through everything." 

Here are the letters: 



No. I. Constantinople, 

Mh February, 1919. 
Dear Jones, 

I wanted to write to you since a long time but it has been 
impossible. Happily the British Authorities have allowed us 
this week to send letters to the Entente countries and the 
first one I send abroad is for you. I am most anxious to hear 
of your health and that of Hill. I have not heard of you for 
six months (September) and it seems such a long while! The 
last time I saw you you were in such a bad state, and I hope, 
and very sincerely wish that the strain which you were sub- 
jected to, has loosed a little and that your health has improved. 
I have a lot of news to give, still more to ask. You know 

359 



36o THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

that all the officers interned at Yozgad came to Constantinople 
on their way home. They are the only prisoners who came 
here. I don't know why. I had a chat with many of them, 
especially with Captain Miller and Major Peel. Miller told 
me that Hill had made a camera with which you took many 
photographs of Yozgad. I congratulate Hill for his industry! 
My talk with Major Peel was more interesting. He looked 
stiff, and I dare say a little furious with me. He said that the 
Commt. the Cook, I and two other gentlemen were looking up 
for a treasure amounting to £18,000, the arrest of these two 
officers, the letter, the enquiry, all that was a fraud. The 
Commandant was acting. He had rehearsed it the day before 
with the officers. One of the officers told him everything, that 
Hill has taken a photograph of the Comt. I, the Cook, the 
gentlemen ( ! ) sitting round a big fire lighted on great stones 
at the top of a hill near the camp. I could not understand that. 
How coiild they have got such a photograph? I very strongly 
protested against this, it was false and that some officer with a 
wide fancy has started this rumour in the camp. The gentle- 
man could not have given him the photo since the gentlemen 
had stopped to see them when the thing is supposed to have oc- 
curred. I could not change his mind; the photo is there and 
he sticks to it. I waited until the Commandant's arrival to 
have more explanations. 

I am giving you all these details because Peel might put it in 
a paper. I may not know it and make it clear. I had lived 
in a very friendly footing with all the officers and I don't wish 
to get into trouble for a misunderstanding. I reckon on your 
friendship to settle the matter clear, if necessary. 

The facts are these. While you were in the hospital, here, 
about sixteen ^ officers escaped from the Camp (among which 
Cochrane, Sweet (dead), Stoker, Matthews, etc.). Many of 
them were caught again (it was a pity) but some got home 
without any difficulty.^ The Turkish War Office, on hearing 
it, sent the Commanding Officer of the Army Corps in Angora 
to enquire. The relations between the two Commandants were 
far from being good. The latter tried to make as many charges 

* The Pimple means twenty-six. 

'For the "ease" with which it was accomplished, see "450 Miles 
to Freedom." 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 361 

against our Commandant as possible. As he knew some French 
Captain Shakeshaft was used as interpreter. Many complaints 
were put forward by Col. Maule who spoke with him about the 
treasure digging and gave him the photo.^ I have long won- 
dered how he got it. I cannot make it out. It is not HUMAN: 
How could they get a photo when there was nobody to take it! 
It is mysterious. None of my Best Friends did know it. If 
they had done they would certainly have informed me. Among 
the other complaints there are about his ill-treatment, his mak- 
ing money out of them, his robbing them and so on. Now, 
the reports were sent to the War Office and the Commandant 
is going to be court-martialled here. He said that the escapes 
are in the background now, according to him the money busi- 
ness comes in first and he can answer for everything but the 
photo. Very cleverly he wanted to put my name forward in 
the trial! I did not want to get mixed up in such business, 
I threw away my uniform,^ and never went again to see him, 
notwithstanding many wires he sent to me. He does not know 
where I am lodging and I am not afraid of him. 

I am leaving {sic) by teaching French and English. It is 
very difficult to get on with and the mere commodities being 
at an awful price and there being no prospect of peace signed 
soon. I applied for a situation at the British H.Q. and as they 
wanted to send me to Anatolia as interpreter I declined. The 
pay was good, food free, but I remembered that "a crust of 
bread where there are people to see you eating it is better than 
rich meats in the wilderness." ^ I remained and the situation 
was lost. What do you advise me? Was I wrong in doing so? 
What is the opinion of the Control? You liked Turkey and 
know Turkish quite good. Could you not manage to be sent 
here with Hill? How happy I will be to see you again! But you 
prefer of course to go back to India, to Burma, don't you? 
Are you discharged? Hill, is he in the R.F.C.? Could you 
send me your and his home address? You can write as many 
letters as you like and so can give all news you think interesting 
to me. Besides letters will you try to send me a mes- 

* A mistake of the Pimple's. At this time Colonel Maule was no 
longer senior officer of the camp. 

* A typically Turkish way of getting "demobbed." 

' A quotation from the Spook. See Chapter XXIII., p. 266. 



'362 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

sage * every ist and 15th of each month? I'll try to do the 
same. I hope that everything is all right and that nothing has 
been spoilt. I am working hard to learn English better for 
our next meeting.^ 

Very sincerely yours, 
^Address: (Signed) Moise. 

Mo'ise Eskenazi, 
Poste Restante, 
British Post Office, 

Galata, Constantinople. 
{To be labelled so by order.) 



No. 2. Constantinople, 

22nd February, 1919. 

Dear Jones, 
I wrote a long letter to you about two weeks ago. As I 
am not certain you will get it I do it once again. 

I am very anxious about your health and Hill's and it will 
be for me a great relief when I hear of your perfect health. 
You will not believe me if I tell you I am thinking of you both 
the whole day. 

I cannot forget our experiment. Instead of thinking of the 
future, my thoughts are going to the happy past elapsed since 
March, 191 8. Goodness! When you get this letter a whole 
year will have passed and we were going to be so happy long 
ago but for the double-faced Superior.^ Notwithstanding the 
promises of help lavished on me by our teacher * nothing seems 
to come of it. Ill luck is going after me. I do not complain 
because the end will be good. I trust him * so much and all's 
good that ends good! Is it not so? 

I have applied a great many times to your offices here, but 
as I told you I am not favoured by chance. People who have 
applied after myself who have not so good knowledge of your 
language have got splendid and well paid jobs. Could you 

'The Pimple means a telepathic message. 
' Spook's orders again ! 
'I.e., Kiazim Bey. 

*I.e., the Spook. The Pimple writes thus obscurely because of 
^e censorship. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 363 

give me some letter to any of the officers here, if you are aware 
of acquaintance of you being here? 

Before any of your letters of introduction what I wish most 
is that you don't forget me and that you honour me of your 
friendship. Our experiments have bound me to you and Hill. 
Be assured that it is not only by interest. It is an admiration, 
a great love for all that you have undergone, with the only 
object of scientific knowledge.^ It may be true that you have 
not lost in the bargain; the knowledge and the power you got 
came as a reward. You did not expect so much on the begin- 
ning. When do you think we are most likely to give an end 
to our story? ^ Is everything all right or has anything gone 
wrong? Do you intend to come back to Turkey or to go back 
to India? Would you not like to come here as a Red Cross 
officer? ^ 

I am working hard at the English,^ but what would make 
me improve would be to be all day long with English speaking 
people, that is, to get an employment in an office. But it won't 
come. I told you. Luck is shunning me. 

Dear Jones. Do send me a letter. Let me know all about 
you since I saw you last. Could you not send me a message 
every ist or 15th (on the evening) every month as you used 
to send home.* He ^ could find the way of how to do it. 

I just heard today that the British Government has asked 
the punishment of many camp Commandants but ours is not 
included in the list. (Anyhow the interpreter who succeeded 

*See Chapter IX., p. 115. 

*I.e., the "Ruler of the World" story. 

•A suggestion of the Spook's. 

* From his perusal, as censor, of my private letters to England, 
Moise believed I was in telepathic touch with mediums at home. It 
is an amusing fact that one of my home correspondents, believing 
me to be genuinely interested in spiritualism (of course the letters 
were written for Moise' s benefit), went to a medium and actually 
got a "message" about me. But the message referred to the very 
distant past, before I became a prisoner, and to a fact known to 
the sitter and several others. Had^ the medium been able to com- 
municate my plan of escape to the sitter — a plan which must have 
interested all intelligent spooks — the money would have been well 
spent and I should certainly have believed in "telepathy." 

*I.e., the Spook. The Pimple writes thus obscurely because of 
the censorship. 



364 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

me is.) As I told you he is going to be court-martialled,^ and 
I think will be forgiven. 

Send me your home address as this letter will take such a 
long time to reach you, as I am sending it c/o the Indian Civil 
Service. Give me the address of Hill too. Hoping to get very 
soon some news from you. 

I remain your most faithful friend, 

(Signed) Mo'iSE. 



No. 3. Provost Marshal's Office, 

Constantinople. G.H.Q. 
iTfth June, 1919. 
Dear Jones, 

I wrote to you many letters but I have not had any from 
you yet. As I did not know your address I sent a line to your 
father asking for your whereabouts. 

As I told you before, I am now in the employ of the British 
here and attached to the P.M. as interpreter. The other day 
I attended a court-martial, in order to give evidence about the 
Sup.^ Most of the questions ran about the two officers sent 
sick to the hospital at Haidar Pasha. They showed to me a 
photo ^: it represents a hill somewhere near the camp; the 
Sup. is on the left side; a tall officer is holding his hands up 
as if he were praying.* I am near him and the old Cook near 
me. Those four are the only persons in the picture. It puzzles 
me a lot as I cannot understand who took the photo and ad- 
mitting it was taken by 000 ^ how the dickens did he manage 
to pass it to the camp? 

Miller,^ before going to England on his way here, told me 

^ Kiazim was court-martialled by the Turks themselves. I do not 
know the result. 

" "The Sup." was one of the Spook names for Kiazim Bey. 

' This was, of course, the photograph of the finding of the first 
clue, taken by Hill. 

* The incantation. The figure described is the author. 

° The Pimple, as a Spiritualist, has every right to believe the 
photograph was taken by OOO, but it would be interesting to 
know how he explained his belief to the Court. 

'Captain S. W. Miller, M.C., was a fellow-prisoner of war at 
Yozgad. 



THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 365 

that Hill gave it to them with many others. Of course, it is 
all rubbish ^ but cannot you give an explanation of the riddle? 

That affair has formed the subject of many articles pub- 
lished in papers by officers of our camp. I have seen one of 
them by Captain Forbes in a Glasgow newspaper. I agree 
that he has a wonderful imagination.^ But I suppose that the 
whole camp thought like him. If you could send any copies 
available referring to our camp and this business, I shall be 
glad indeed. 

How is Hill? Is he in England or is he gone to Australia? 
What are your ideas? Shall we meet again? I hope you have 
not forgotten what you promised in the train ^ and that noth- 
ing wrong has happened since that could irritate the Controller 
and that we shall be able to resume our studies." 

[Then follow remarks about the weather in Constantinople. 
He ends.] 

"I want now that I have plenty of time, to study those 
questions * further. Could you send me a few important stand- 
ard books dealing with this subject? I should be greatly 
obliged to you and do not forget please to drop a line to your 

Very affectionate 
{Signed) Moise Eskenazi. 



Let me end this postscript with a quotation from a letter of 
Hill's acknowledging the receipt of a copy of the Pimple's last 
note: 

*'No, Bones, I am not altogether sorry for the Pimple. I 
can't quite forget about the thefts from our parcels at Yozgad 
and the other things he did. Besides, the Spook 'did him 
nothing but good,' as Doc. used to say. The military training 

* A typically spiritualistic view of an inconvenient truth.^ 

' Captain Forbes was one of the Kastamouni Incorrigibles. His 
version of the story appeared in the Glasgow Sunday Post. Accord- 
ing to him the Spooks who guided Kiazim were those of "Na- 
poleon" and "Osman the Conqueror." As a matter of fact, "Na- 
poleon" was on the side of 000. 

'We promised in the train (on the way to hospital) that we 
would meet the Pimple again in Egypt so that he might become 
the "Ruler of the World." (Chapter XXVI., p. 305-) 

* "Those questions," i.e., spiritualism. 



366 THE ROAD TO EN-DOR 

nearly made a man of him, and he has been honest now for 
over a year. So he's getting on. As to the 'standard works on 
spiritualism,' I think you had better send him your own book. 
That should help him to the right point of view — unless he 
thinks it was written by 000." 



APPENDIX I 

List of Officers of the British and Indian Forces In- 
terned AT YozGAD, 19 1 7. 



LlEUT.-COMMANDERS : 



NAVAL 

A. D. Cochrane, R.N. 
H. G. D. Stoker, R.N. 



Lieutenants: R. D. Merriman, R.I.M. 

A. J. Nightingale, R.N.A.S. 
E. J. Price, R.N. 
L. C. P. TuDWAY, R.N. 
P. Woodland, R.N.A.S. 



MILITARY 

Colonels: W. W. Chitty, 119th Infantry. 
A. J. N. Harward, 48th Pioneers. 



LlEUT.-COLONELS: 



Majors: 



Hon. C. J. Coventry, Worcester Yeo- 
manry. 
W. C. R. Farmar, R.G.A. 

E. H. E. Lethbridge, ist Oxford and 
Bucks. 

F. C. Lodge, 2nd Nor folks. 
N. S. Maule, R.F.A. 

F. A. Wilson, R.E. 



F. E. Baines, I.M.S. 
E. J. L. Baylay, R.F.A. 
H. Broke-Smith, R.F.A. 
T. R. M. Carlisle, R.F.A. 
E- CoEBOULD- Warren, R.F.A. 
367 



^68 APPENDIX I 

Majors: J. H. M. Davie, Poona Horse. 
E. G. Dunn, ist R.I.R. 

E. E. Forbes, S. and T. Corps. 

W. F. C. Gilchrist, 8ist Infantry. 

A. F. W. Harvey, R.F.A. 

C. F. Henley, ist Oxford and Bucks. 
G. M. Herbert, 2nd Dorsets. 
S. Julius, Royal Sussex. \ 
O. S. Lloyd, R.F.A. 
^ J. W. Nelson, 2nd Royal West Kents. 

B. G. Peel, 8 ist Infantry. 

F. S. Williams-Thomas, Worcester Yeomaniy. 



Captains: A. Brown, 2nd Dorsets. 

E. W. Burdett, 48th Pioneers. 

H. S. Cardew, 34th Div. Signal Company. 

C. E. Colbeck, R.E. 

M. J. Dinwiddy, 2nd Royal West Kents. 

K. F. Freeland, R.G.A. 

A. Gatherer, 34th Div. Signal Company. 

C. B. MuNDAY, ist Oxford and Bucks. 

W. R. OTarrell, R.A.M.C. 

J. Phillips, S. and T. Corps. 

E. W. C. Sandes, R.E. 

A. J. Shakeshaft, 2nd Norfolks. 

R. E. Stage, R.E. 

J. Startin, R.A.M.C. 

H. W. Tomlinson, R.E. 

A. J. Wilcox, Chaplain. 

S. C. Winfield-Smith, R.F.C. 

Lieutenants: W. Barton, 2nd Dorsets. 
J. L. Batty, I.A.R.O. 
W. Bell, Worcester Yeomanry. 
S. W. BiDEN, I.A.R.O. 
G. W. R. Bishop, 2/8 Somerset L.I. 
W. R. BoYES, I.A.R.O. 
E. B. Burns, and Royal West Kents. 
T. Campbell, 2nd Norfolks. 
B. Chamberlain, Worcester Yeomanry. 



APPENDIX I 369 

Lieutenants: C. P. Crawley, 2nd Dorsets. 
F. B. Davern, R.F.A. 
J. H. T. Dawson, Worcester Yeom^iry. 
W. Devereux, R.F.A. 
L. H. G. DoRLiNG, R.F.A. 
P. N. Edmonds, R.F.A. 
R. Flux, R.F.A. 
H. C. Gallup, R.F.A. 
C. C. Herbert, Worcester Yeomanry. 
A. M. Hickman, Worcester Yeomanry. 
C. F. HiGHETT, 2nd Dorsets. 

A. V. Holyoake, Worcester Yeomanry. 

C. W. Hill, R.F.C. 

B. A. Jervis, Worcester Yeomanry. 

E. H. Jones, I.A.R.O. , 
J. Killin, R.E. 

O. H. Little, Topographical Survey. 

J. Marsh, Worcester Yeomanry. 

A. E. Mason, ist Oxford and Bucks. 

L. W. H. Mathias, 128th Pioneers. 

A. B. Matthews, R.E. 

J. McCombie, 34th Div. Signal Company. 

J. McCoNviLLE, 34th Div. Signal Company. 

D. S. McGhie, R.E. 

S. W. Miller, 2nd Dorsets. 

J. Mills, 2nd Royal West Kents. 

F. W. Osborne, Worcester Yeomanry. 
H. L. Peacocke, 2nd Norfolks. 

J. F. W. Read, 2nd Norfolks. 

D. A. Simmonds, 2nd Dorsets. 
W. Snell, I /6th Devons. 

R. A. Spence, R.F.A. 

H. W. M. Spink, I.A.R.O. 

T. Strickland, Gloucester Yeomanry. 

L. S. SuTOR, I.A.R.O. 

F. N. G. Taylor, R.E. 

W. E. Trafford, R.F.A. 

J. S. TwiNBERROw, Worcester Yeomanry. 

H. G. Waldram, 1/6 Devons. 

E. S. Ward, Worcester Yeomanry. 



370 APPENDIX I 

Lieutenants: E. J. Williams, R.G.A. 

F. P. WiLLMMS, R.G.A. 

F. W. B. Wilson, R.F.A. | 

G. B. Wright, Worcester Yeomanry. 

(Note. — The rank given above is that held by the officei^ 
at the time of his capture by the Tmrks. l 

The list does not include the officers from Kastamouni cami^ 
who arrived in Yozgad the day before the departure of Lieut. 
Hill and myself for Constantinople. — E. H. J.) 



APPENDIX II 

WHAT happened in this test is a little difficult to 
follow without an illustration. 
Consider the Ouija illustration facing p. i8 as 
the one with which I was familiar up to the time 
of the test. Matthews made his secret rearrangement of the 
letters by interchanging T and W, B. and M, D and V. The 
order of the letters on his "original," "duplicate" and "tripli- 
cate" therefore was as follows: 

APTEHYKXQNIFSFZJOJLZWGMCURB. 

Owing to my not having noticed that D and V had been 
interchanged, the order of the letters as I saw them in my 
mind's eye was: 

APTEHYKXQNIFSZ)70JLZWGMCURB. 

The "triplicate," revolving inside the "duplicate," stopped 
with its B opposite the V, the code formed being as follows: 

Code I. 

APTEHYKXQNIFSFDOJLZWGMCURB (dup.) 
SFD0JLZWGM.CUR5 APTEH YKXQ NIF (trip.) 

On this code, to write the word "spook" I was expected to 
write the letters RVPPZ. What I did write however was 
USAAL. These letters, de-coded under the above code-system, 
give the letters FADDY, which are all one place to the left 
of the ones required — SPOOK. The reason for this was a 
double accident. First I had failed to notice that D and V had 
been interchanged by Matthews; second, the letter whose 
identity I succeeded in eliciting from Little happened to be V. 
Little's inadvertent information had been that the B had 

371 



372 APPENDIX II 

stopped opposite V, so that the code on which I was working 
was the following: * 

Code II. 

Flnvn T^T^y^ApAi ^ S Z? F O J L Z W G M C U R B (dup.) 
l^SZJFOJLZWGM CUR5APTEHYKXQNI (trip.) 

If the alphabet be coded on Code 11. (which is what I did) 
and the result decoded on Code I. (which is what Little had 
to do), It will be found that twenty-two of the twenty-six 
letters are represented by the letter immediately to their left 
m Matthews s rearrangement; and of the remaining four letters 
two ^retwo places to the left and two are in the correct posi- 
tion The proportion of cases in which the letter appeared 
one to the left of where it should be was great enough to make 
the investigators believe that the Spook was purposely writing 
in his way They either did not notice, or passed over S 
negligible, the four exceptions. Yet in these exceptions lay 
the clue to the tnck. ^ 



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373 



374 APPENDIX III 

• ^" °^^^^.to indicate any article to me Hill asked the question 
^^^} f honzontal column in which the article appeared and 
column Th'°'"-'L°'^ ^^'^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ peipendicular 

"Tell me what this is," meant a pipe. 

'^'Can you tell us what this article is?" meant a photograph 
Fej, what s this owe?" meant a strap. And so on. (The 
itahcs mdicate the key words.) 

u ^^?, ^^^[^. S^''^^ ^^°^s e^g^ty articles. By prefixing the word 
now' to his question, Hill let me know he was referring to a 
second series of eighty articles. ''Now, tell me what this is " 
did not mean a "pipe," but it referred to the article in the cor- 
responding position in the second series: Similarly a prefix of 
now then referred to a third series. And so on. The ques- 
tions were very much alike and it required an acute observer 
to notice that no two were exactly the same. 

The addition of the words "in my hand" indicated that only 
a portion of the article in the list had been shown. Thus when 
Slim Jim produced the stump of a candle Hill's question was. 
no you know what this is in my hand?" 
Each question in the horizontal columns also stood for a 
letter of the alphabet, so that it was possible (though slow) to 
spell out the name of an article. 

^ Both the questions in the horizontal columns and the head- 
ings of ^ the vertical columns were used to indicate numbers. 
Thus, "Tell me quickly if you can say what this number is? 
Come along! Don't you know it,?" is 6 5 2 o i 4 i 2. 

We had key words for decima'ls, fractions, subtraction, ad- 
dition, and for repetition of the last-named figure. We also 
had key words to indicate any officer or man in the camp. 

If the same thing was handed up to Hill twice in succession 
the question could nearly alwavs be varied in form. Thus a 
pipe" is indicated either by "fell me what this is" or "GoadI 
What's this?" 

Finally we had a system for using the code without speaking 
«^^ u ? ^^ employed with success at a private seance in 
Posh Castle," but which is too intricate to describe here An 
amusing result of our use of this alternative system was to be- 
wilder completely those in the company who thought the mes- 
sage was conveyed by the form of Hill's question to me. They 



APPENDIX in 375 

argued (quite fallaciously), that because we could do it with- 
out speaking, therefore what Hill said to me when he did 
speak had nothing to do with my answers. 

I ought, perhaps, to add that perfection in the use of the 
code involves a good deal of memory work and constant prac- 
tice. Nothing but the blankness of our days in Yozgad and 
the necessity of keeping our minds from rusting could have 
excused the waste of time entailed by preparation for thought- 
reading exhibition. It is hardly a fitting occupation for free 
men. 



Jhe End 



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